


Longing for the Yiling Patriarch

by Yulius



Category: MODAOZUSHI, grandmasterordemoniccultivation, wangxian - Fandom
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Ancient chinese, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Corpses, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, Ghosts, Historical Fantasy, Historical chinese, M/M, Swordfighting, Undead, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 46,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22771099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulius/pseuds/Yulius
Summary: Prior to Wei WuXian's death, Lan WangJi protected him at a grave cost to keep him alive. After Wei WuXian's death he bore all responsibility and kept his memory alive. He longed 13 years to see that light again. Every minute was a waking nightmare as he existed for the sole purpose of finding Wei Ying's lost soul.Summary: The events occurring between the Massacre of Nightless City and Wei WuXian's revival told from Lan WangJi's POV.
Relationships: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji, Wei Ying/Lan Zhan
Comments: 69
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Massacre of Nightless City

Two pieces of metal clasped together in a distinctive haunting clang that promised rivers of blood. The echoes resonated in the shivering hearts of three thousand cultivators as they bravely faced the once-esteemed YiLing Patriarch.

Stygian Tiger Seal!

Silence descended. Bewildered eyes set upon the intricately engraved seal as if waiting for the terror it possessed to be unleashed.

Seconds passed as the accumulated pressure of four hundred years worth of hatred slowly ebbed into the atmosphere. The nearby cultivators hastened out of their trance as they realised the complete seal was finally unleashing its true strength.

Raising his sword, Nie MingJue thundered, “Destroy the seal!”

Jin GuangShan joined Nie MingJue in his bloodlust, “Kill the YiLing Patriarch before the seal activates!”

Vicious cries calling for murder resounded across the entirety of the courtyard. In the centre of the crowd, the target of all blood-lust consuming the righteous cultivators, Wei Wu Xian stood with neither fear nor apology as his vengeful eyes slowly descended into insanity. Black tears formed from resentful energy that dripped from his eyes. The black tears dissipated into the atmosphere as they fell from his face. Wei WuXian’s piercing eyes, stripped of its usually playfulness, were no long a simmering, thoughtful black, but a malicious crimson red similar to the crimson of the once illustrious Wen clan’s motif.

Black robe billowing furiously in the biting wind, Wei WuXian lifted ChengQing to his lips. The flute reflected a devilish black shine as the red tassel fluttered with the rush of resentful energy emerging from the seal. Seeing ChengQing being raised once again, nearby cultivators rushed in a crowd towards the YiLing patriarch with weapons outstretched. Thousands of arrows were released into the night sky whistling as they cut through the air towards their target. With an entire sky full of arrows trained on his heart and hundreds of swords, sabres and whips aimed towards his body, Wei WuXian couldn’t help but laugh maniacally.

Wei WuXian’s lips hovered slightly over the bamboo flute as he blew into the instrument. The first notes of the song amplified by the tiger seal erupted from the flute in a wave of resentful energy.

_‘Awaken!’_

The sound of the flute transcended life and death. A command was sent to those long deceased as the fierce corpses stronger than those already in the plaza exploded from the ground. Corpses in varying degrees of decay pushed out from the dirt hundreds at a time.

A second note followed the first. The second, powerful wave of resentful energy rushed towards the oncoming surge of arrows. Wei WuXian’s glowing, red eyes narrowed in satisfaction as the resentful energy collided with the arrows. The shower of arrows, diverted from their original target, fell in a disorganised manner…straight the onto oncoming cultivators. Cries of pain resounded throughout the courtyard as the arrows fell and pierced through their body. In the first wave alone, tens of cultivators died in the cross-fire.

“Cease fire! Don’t use arrows!”

Gratification swelled in Wei Wuian’s heart as he watched those so-called righteous cultivators die by their own hands. His eyes held no recognition as he stared at the foremost cultivators after his life. Even as his eyes scanned past Jiang Cheng, who cradled his beloved sister grieving on the ground, held no emotion other than murder. Wei WuXian could feel his control slipping. He was no longer in control. However, he welcomed this response. Even at the cost of his life, he would not let his ShiJie’s, Wei Qing’s and Wei Ning’s death be in vain.

The notes of the flute continued playing in a chaotic song as pandemonium broke loose within Nightless City. The song, although beautiful, was the sound of a nightmare as the righteous cultivators watched thousands of fierce corpses emerge from the ground. Each cultivator was worth tens of people; however, so many fierce corpses could pose a threat even to them. Most terrifyingly, when a righteous cultivator died, they too would become part of the fierce corpses. The righteous cultivators who died with so much hatred for the YiLing Patriarch ironically became the strongest opponents.

The war of the dead and undead combatted each other in fierce cries of war. No side was tolerant of the other. Where the light exists, the darkness cannot. Blood rained down as hundreds of cultivators died by a single man’s hand.

However, in the chaos, a strum of the guqin cut through the night. A desperate strum that could be heard even on the other side of the courtyard. The gentle instrument was turned into a desperate plea as a gentle tune flowed from a pair of elegant hands. The gentle tune interrupted the fierce sound of the demonic flute as the sound of both instruments intertwined together.

_‘Wei WuXian!’_

_‘Get lost! Don’t interrupt my massacre!’_

The change in tune calmed the fierce corpses which irritated Wei WuXian whose conscience had become one with the stygian tiger seal. The tune of the flute changed again as a command was sent out to the corpses surrounding the guqin player.

Lan WangJi saw the corpses approaching as he played; however, his focus never diverted from Wei WuXian. Even as a sword grasped in a hand made only of bone slashed towards him.

XiCheng, seeing the danger his brother was in, cried “Lan Wangji!”

Lan WangJi twisted away from the zone of danger as he changed the tune he played again to match Wei WuXian’s tune. He felt his heart tremble as he watched his beloved command for his death. He understood; this was not the Wei WuXian he was familiar with. This was the true, final form of the stygian tiger seal. However, even as he was playing, he could sense the power of the seal growing stronger. The tiger seal would soon overpower what he could defend against. WangJi’s eyes flashed to Wei WuXian. His heart tightened as he saw the slight smile and crazed eyes watching him as a God watched an ant. Gritting his teeth, WangJi disregarded the consequences as he ran towards Wei WuXian with determination. BiChen at his side, he killed his way through hordes of fierce corpses as he made his way towards Wei WuXian. Billowing resentful energy created a torrential gust that pushed WangJi away from Wei WuXian and into the centre of a fierce corps horde.

Time was running out, WangJi’s strained voice cried out in a voice saturated with pain and emotion, “Wei WuXian!”

Wei WuXian stared at Lan Wangji but didn’t move. WangJi felt his heart shatter as completely dismissal crossed those dark eyes.

“Wei WuXian! Wake up!”

WangJi saw cultivators approaching Wei WuXian from behind on their swords. Eyes widening, fear encroached upon his fragile his heart. His heart beat wildly as he desperately strung his guqin again with a hurried and urgent pace. Hearing the sudden change in the music, Wei WuXian sensed approaching danger. With no sword, he couldn’t fight personally, so the tune on the flute changed once again. Dead bodies strewing the ground dressed in robes of all the sects participating in the occasion rose again with savage roars. The newly risen fierce corpses raised their swords and talismans to combat those coming towards Wei WuXian.

Wei WuXian smiled again as he played another melody. The arrogant wilful tone of the melody made those who heard it squint their eyes in distaste. So much arrogance from a dead man standing. A large smile broached Wei WuXian’s face as he commanded the corpses to remove their signal flares from their robes. Oncoming cultivators who flew above the corpses dismissed the minute action until Wei WuXian simultaneously activated over a fifty of them at once. The signal flares whistled as they flew into the air, and in a moment of utter, unadulterated brilliance, over fifty flares exploded with a bang. Strewn across the sky were beautiful emblems of yellow, blue, purple and grey. However, with the beauty came mighty destruction. From the sky, disfigured limbs, torsos and heads began to fall. Swords dropped down to the ground threatening to impale anyone who did not move quickly enough.

A surviving cultivator spluttered in rage, “Y-You! You killed them!”

Wei WuXian calmly turned to the man, “I cannot act in self-defence?”

Multiple cultivators roared in protest, “You made us act out. If you didn’t come to kill us, we wouldn’t be trying to kill you! We’re enacting justice”

“Ridiculous. Your justice is combatting one man with three thousand? What foolery.”

Wei WuXian didn’t hesitate any longer as a grin crossed his face. Inserting his hand into his robe, WuXian retrieved a large stack of talismans. A crazed look appeared on his face as he careless flung the talismans in all directions.

_Spirit attracting talismans!_

All the cultivators were instantly alert as they witnessed the talismans being distributed. Each talisman had an extra four strokes turning it into an attraction for all evil. The entirety of the area was covered in hundreds of spirit attracting talismans. A rumble emerged from the earth as instantly, malicious spirits joined the massacre. Hundreds of spirits attracted by the talismans released their baleful energy and attacked by Wei WuXian’s command. The malicious spirits screamed piercing cries as they attacked the righteous cultivators. Without an option, some people used deity-binding nets and talismans to fend off from the fierce corpses and malicious spirits. There was a ripple of cries as stronger spirits took down multiple people in one fell sweep. No cultivator was in pristine condition as they attacked while gasping for breath. Their own spiritual powers were beginning to run out. The huge influx of spirits and corpses had depleted their spiritual powers quickly. Sensing danger of the oncoming absence of their spiritual powers, some cultivators rushed towards Wei WuXian in a last effort to kill him. WuXian was not weak. However, each cultivator had a weakness.

Not even WangJi was spared as the influx of baleful energy multiplied and birthed even more demonic creatures. Wei WuXian stood at the centre of his chaos with a slight sneer on his face as cultivators around Nightless city were slaughtered indirectly by his hand. Blood from close by cultivators splattered on his face and robes. Wei WuXian looked every part the demonic YiLing patriarch now. Hundreds of cultivators had died already and the onslaught of cultivators approaching to throw away their lives without a plan was lessening. All focus rested on the malicious creatures of the night.

The final glimpse of control slipped from Wei WuXian’s control as he descended into a state of unconsciousness. The stygian tiger seal lit up brightly as it shone in the night sky like an ominous star. Resentful energy spilled from Wei WuXian’s body in unprecedented amounts and shrouded him in darkness.

Perceptive to the sudden shift in Wei WuXian aura, Nie MingJue yelled, “Be careful. The stygian tiger seal is getting stronger!”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The stygian tiger seal was an item of Wei WuXian’s creation; however, he had never predicted that, despite being the creator, he would be unable to control it himself. The seal was, in essence, an extremely powerful amplifier for baleful and resentful energy. The resentful energy in an area would multiply exponentially and increase in its toxic potency. The very essence of baleful aura that had been strengthened by the tiger seal was enough to cause nearby surroundings to begin rotting.

Jin GuanShan’s eyes shifted towards Lan XiChen and Nie MingJue. The three nodded to each other as they lunged towards Wei WuXian. Swords outstretched, they slaughtered their way through the horde of malicious spirits and fierce corpses to make their way to Wei WuXian.

Not too far away, Lan WangJi strummed the guqin with coarse strokes as he defended his younger disciples from fierce corpses and wailing ghosts. Looking up, he witnessed his brother and two sect leaders reach a sword’s distance away from Wei WuXian. He looked back towards the younger disciples who huddled in his protection and back at Wei WuXian. He grit his teeth as he urged BiChen to Wei WuXian’s side. Focus divided between protecting the disciples and urging BiChen to protect Wei WuXian left Lan Wangji open for attack. The dancing fingers on the guqin became chaotic as mistakes were made and tones were skewed. Lan Wangji felt his heart still as the swords of three sect leaders landed on Wei WuXian. His breath quickened and the guqin’s defence fell to nothing within a matter of seconds. The opening left Lan Wangji and GusuLan disciples completely open for attack.

“Senior brother! Senior brother!” a younger disciple cried in fear as a fierce corpse approached.

Lan Wangji surroundings suddenly became silent as he saw the three swords restrain BiChen and impale straight through Wei WuXian’s body. Lan Wangji couldn’t move. His heart tore apart as he watched blood drip from the ends of the three sec leader’s swords.

While he was distracted, fierce corpse attacked. With great speed, the nails of a fierce corpses scratched a deep gash across Lan Wangji’s chest. The disciple’s fear heightened as they realised their protector was injured.

“Senior brother!”

The pain brought Lan Wangji out of his daze as he awoke just in time to see Jing GuangShan pull his sword from Wei WuXian’s body and fling the blood away like mud. Anger surged within him as he abandoned his duty.

_‘Wei WuXian!’_

Wei WuXian didn’t seem too bothered by the impalement of three swords. When all Jin GuangShan and Nie MingJue had arrogantly removed their sword with glee expecting Wei WuXian to have died under their hands, Wei WuXian personally pushed ChengQing in the direction of their golden cores. Not even XiChen, who had treated Wei WuXian as respectfully as the situation was allowed was spared. Resentful energy surged from the flute into the gold cores of all three. Instantly, all three sect leaders coughed a mouthful of blood. They could feel their golden cores and hence, their cultivation being surrounded and supressed by the baleful energy. Taking the sect leaders’ momentary weakness as a blessing, Wei WuXian lashed out and kicked their chests until they flew three feet away.

Lan WangJi saw his brother being kicked three feet away, and felt relief filled his heart as he saw Wei WuXian still standing.

He reached his hand out towards Wei WuXian, but just when he felt Wei WuXian was within his grasp, Lan XiChen cried out in warning, “Lan Wangji, get away!”

As soon as Lan WangJi heard his brother’s warning, Wei WuXian planted his foot on his chest and forcefully kicked him away. Lan WangJi was kicked into the horde of ghosts and fierce corpses attacking his juniors. Disbelief crossed his eyes as he stared at the domineering figure who was casually shifting his intestines back into his stomach in a casual manner.

With three major sect leaders injured, the morale of the overall battle grew dimmer. Lan Wangji drew BiChen and cleared the area of fierce corpses. He issued talismans for the younger disciples and encouraged them to seek safety away from the fighting as he rushed back to the bloody scene.

Already, the entirety of the plaza was coated in a layer of blood. The air was infused with the scent of iron and still the dead fought the living. A deadly, lulling tune commanded the dead as its commander. The harbinger of death, Wei WuXian stood dripping blood from his injuries with a blackened grace of an arrogant demonic overlord. A thousand people had already passed on and returned as fierce corpses to take down their own kind.

Lan Wangji grit his teeth. Wei WuXian was powerful, but as one of the few last standing relatively uninjured cultivators, he had a responsibility to restrain Wei WuXian. How could he do such a thing though? His emotions were in turmoil and despite not understanding the depth of his emotions himself, he was well aware that he could bring no harm to Wei WuXian. Guilt scratched at Lan Wangji’s conscience as he realised that thousands of lives were lost and hundreds more injured, yet he still could not put so much as a scratch on Wei WuXian’s body.

His grip on the guqin tightened as fierce notes that tore apart the corpses were played. As he watched Wei WuXian, his heart twisted again noting the ever present resentful energy surrounding him. His gaze trailed upwards as it followed the trail of resentful energy.

The stygian tiger seal!

Lan Wangji’s thoughts spun. By taking down the tiger seal, he may be able to return Wei WuXian’s consciousness, but there would e consequences. Without a doubt, the tiger seal was a mystical artefact, but it was also a dark artefact. There was a cost involved in using dark artefacts, but he didn’t have a choice.

Lan Wangji rushed the only other relatively uninjured person in the cluster of cultivators, Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng sat in the centre of encirclement being protected by his sect members as he cradled Jiang YanLi’s cold, dead body. YanLi’s body was perhaps the only body on the battlefield that had not turned into a fierce corpse. YanLi held no resentment towards Wei WuXian. It could only be assumed that even if Jin ZiXuan died by Wei WuXian’s had, Jiang YanLi still loved her adoptive younger brother enough to forgive him.

“Jiang Chen!” WangJi called.

The encirclement protecting Jiang Cheng split to allow Lan WangJi access.

Jiang Cheng didn’t move.

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang YanLi will not move again.”

Lan WangJi wouldn’t normally have said anything as harsh as he had. His personality had always been one who cared little for the mortal world; however, the need to retain appearances was minimal in the current situation. He grasped Jiang Cheng’s arm and pulled him. The sudden action caused Jiang Cheng to whip his arm towards Lan Wangji in a ferocious movement.

“Don’t touch me!”

Jiang Cheng clutched Yan Li’s lifeless body harder as tears dripped from his face.

“Jie, wake up.”

Jiang Cheng tapped his sister’s bloodless face as he urged her to get up.

“We’ve got to leave now. You don’t like blood after all.”

Nie MingJue roared as he heard Jiang Cheng’s words, “Your sister died by the YiLing Patriarch’s hand. You’re going to keep letting him run around like this! Your nephew will be the world’s laughing stock!”

Jin GuangYao, who supported XiChen, paused for a moment as he heard MingJue’s words. He harshly turned around and continued defending and supporting XiChen.

Jin GuangShan yelled, “We just need to destroy the stygian tiger seal right?”

Lan Wangji nodded. He released Jiang Cheng’s arm and let him rest back on the floor. If other sects were willing to co-operate, there was no need to pull sect leader Jiang while he was still mentally unstable.

Moving from one area to the next was difficult in the flood of walking dead, but close to the centre of the battlefield, a circular formation was formed by sect leaders and powerful cultivators alike. They stood with their back straight as they defended each other’s back and gathered enough power to destroy the tiger seal. Many straggler cultivators were still struggling on the outskirts of the battle against singular fierce corpses and ghosts. Stronger cultivators were beginning to drift to the centre as they assembled into a formation. The formation was filled with cultivators from many different sects from many different locations.

If Wei WuXian had seen this formation while he was conscious, he would have laughed cynically as he realised he had become the big villain in this story who friends and enemies alike needed to unite in order to battle.

Nie MingJue’s loud voice roared though the roars of the dead, “Prepare an attack on the stygian tiger seal!”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nie MingJue was currently leaning on a Nie sect junior to support himself. XiChen and Jin GuangShan had recovered their cultivation after dispelling the resentful energy that had surrounded their golden cores; however, Nie MingJue, whose cultivation was more chaotic, had trouble dispelling the resentful energy without damaging his golden core. His had alrrasy spit up mouthfuls of blood; however, as the strongest cultivator present, he needed to raise the morale of the cultivators even if he himself couldn’t participate.

Jin guangYao protected cultivators as he ferried cultivators to the encirclement despite his own injuries. The stygian tiger seal was a monstrous artifact and without the assistance of almost all available cultivators, there would be no way to destroy it. 

XiChen formed two circles with the gathered cultivators. He then divided a third of the cultivators to the outer circle and the remaining two thirds on the inner circle. Within the inner circle of cultivators stood the strongest cultivators with the most remaining strength. Jin GuangShan directed all inner circle cultivators to store their spiritual powers in order to release a final attack containing all their power onto the seal.

An inner circle disciple of the YunMengJing sect asked with rage in his eyes, “Wouldn’t it be better to attack the YiLing patriarch? If we kill him then we can retrieve the stygian tiger seal.”

Lan WangJi’s eyes furrowed as he sent a piercing glare towards the speaker.

XiChen sighed regretfully, “While it would be pleasant if we were able to siege him, the chances of success are too slim. The stygian tiger seal is the source of his power. It endlessly amplifies his power as long as he will its. When he sees us approaching, it’s likely he will simply draw more power and defend himself.”

Nie GuangShan cut in, “Wei WuXian is also likely to survive a siege in his current state. Earlier we stabbed him in the stomach but look at him now. There is no wound. The source of his resentful energy needs to be destroyed in order to kill him.”

The surrounding sect leaders and disciples nodded their heads in understanding. Without requiring further explanation, the cultivators prepared their weapons and spiritual energy.

Lan WangJi had no choice but to look upwards regretfully towards Wei WuXian as he readied BiChen. There would be consequences, but WangJi was willing to bear them if he could bring Wei WuXian back.

The outer circle of cultivators were tasked with protecting those in the inner circle as they moved towards the YiLing patriarch. Even as the cultivators stored power, those on the outer circle were still fighting head to head with fierce corpses. A number of those protecting the inner circle had already fallen. The blood of their fellow righteous cultivators rained down on their bodies, but nobody had the time to mourn their loss. The surge of corpses and ghosts was still steadily increasing and with the number of cultivators decreasing, they had little time to prepare. There were still half of the original fierce corpses and ghosts in good condition and wailing for the deaths of those who were righteous while there were truly only a few hundred righteous cultivators left.

“Ready!”

“Ready!”

“Ready!

Different factions began announcing their state of preparedness as the final move was about to come. The spiritual power within the encirclement was growing. Despite every cultivator having suffered some injury to their body, there was no doubt that the combined power of a few hundred cultivators in the encirclement was well-beyond what anyone had witnessed before. The very aura of the power created a barrier that prevented malicious ghosts from nearing them; however, fierce corpses, being unconscious and unaware beings, still attacked.

XiChen raised his voice as he asked, “Is everyone ready?”

A positive reply echoed around the group.

Jin GuangShan raised his sword as he pointed towards the floating stygian tiger seal.

“Go!”

In a moment of gracefulness that didn’t usually appear on a battlefield, hundreds of cultivators rose on their swords and charged towards the stygian tiger seal while staying in formation. The glints of hundreds of swords, sabers and whips glinted under the light of the moon as they aimed for a single target. The surge of spiritual power condensed into an almost tangible form of solid energy as it shot towards the seal.

Wei WuXian saw the approach of the cultivators and used the resentful energy to lift himself to the height of the seal as he stood in front of it in an obvious stance of protection.

Seeing Wei WuXian’s stance, XiChen’s forehead furrowed. At the current rate, hundreds of swords would pierce his body followed by an insurmountable amount of spiritual energy slamming into him head on.

Lan WangJi panicked. His own sword, BiChen was now aimed towards the very heart he had dearly hoped to never injure. WangJi retracted his spiritual energy to will BiChen to move faster. He broke from the formation and sped ahead of the cultivators by just a little. As they approached Wei WuXian’s location the amount of spiritual energy being gathered had climbed again.  
  


Wei WuXian formed a wall of resentful energy in front of another wall of a wall formed with fierce corpses. More malicious ghosts were commanded to attack the outer encirclement and further weaken the encirclement. The harsh notes of the flute shook the hearts of the righteous cultivators as they swore to persecute those that used the flute for misdeeds. The morale of the cultivators was still high. They had faith. Such strong spiritual energy would definitely be able to shatter the stygian tiger seal. The group of cultivators broke through the wall of resentful energy with ease with WangJi in the lead The wall of fierce corpses layered more than five, but still, WangJi broke through each layer with determination. Upon breaching the final layer of defence, WangJi rushed through the first crack formed by the accumulated spiritual energy and rushed straight for Wei WuXian. He ignored the tiger seal completely as he threw his body towards Wei WuXian. Accelerated by the assistance of spiritual power, Wangji shot straight into Wei WuXian before he had a chance to defend.

With Wei WuXian in his grasp, WangJi embraced Wei WuXian closely as he prepared for the impact of the fall. Behind him, the group of cultivators that had just broken through the final defence and were shrouded by negative energy. They couldn’t see Wei WuXian, but they didn’t care. The enormous bundle of spiritual energy was hurled at the stygian tiger seal with all the force that the cultivators could muster.

Lan Wangji shielded Wei WuXian and as he braced for the fall, he released a pillow of spiritual energy to lessen the impact. From his vantage point, he could see the burst of spiritual energy slam into the tiger seal. As soon as Lan Wangji felt the ground beneath him, he hugged Wei WuXian close and shoved Wei WuXian's body underneath his own.

The resulting impact of the spiritual power meeting the stygian tiger seal was immense. An energy ball of resentful and spiritual energy collided together caused a destructive collision of forces. The cultivators were not far enough away and were hit with a direct impact. In that singular explosion, hundreds of the remaining cultivators died instantly. Only a few survived the brunt of the impact and lay strewn on the ground in an extremely capricious position. Bodies dropped from the sky like dead flies as they fell to the floor with a dull thud. WangJi, having used his own body to shield Wei WuXian beneath him, suffered deep burns all over his back and body. The inscriptions on his sect robe had done little to protect him from such an intense blast. Blood continuously poured from the blast as he disregarded his own injuries to check Wei WuXian’s body. Luckily it seemed that Wei WuXian hadn’t suffered too many injuries and had simply been knocked out by the blast. Lan Wangji cradled Wei WuXian as he gently called his name trying to wake him up.

All around cultivators were in a state of shock as they tried to comprehend the deaths of hundreds of cultivators in mere moments. No one had the time to pay attention the unconscious YiLing patriarch as they focused on the wounded from those of their own sects.

As cries for help circulated, a sudden shout gathered the attention of all living cultivators.

“The stygian tiger seal hasn’t been destroyed!”

Despair crossed the cultivators faces as they saw the seal still floating in the sky. There was a distinctive web of cracks all over one half, but distinctive swirls of eerily black resentful energy continued to leak from the seal. Although it was evident that it had weakened extensively, it still had the potential to cause harm. As if trying to prove its might in retaliation, a continuous stream of resentful energy spilled from the seal towards the fierce corpses underneath it. Vicious roars chorused through the night complimenting the macabre scene in a beautifully savage picture.

Defeated corpses rose again like puppets whose strings were reattached. The exhausted righteous cultivators could feel their hearts trembling at the prospect of having to fight again in such severe conditions. No cultivator remained unwounded. Too many of them had died already for there to be a good amount of resistance. In the face of such a helpless situation, some cultivators couldn’t help but thinking of ending their own lives to prevent ending up like a puppet dancing to a malicious cultivator’s tune. The overall morale was almost non-existent as the cultivators drew their weapons again. Not even Nie MingJue, who had suffered the worst backlash from the resentful energy around his golden core, could be spared. There was no helping it. Lan XiChen stood back to back to Jin GuangYao with swords raised as he cut through more fierce corpses. Jin GuangYao protected XiChen’s back with ease as he thrusted his blade into a dead QingheNie sect disciple. Unlike Lan XiChen and Jin GuangYao, Jin GuangShan didn’t have a comfortable relationship with any other sect heads and relied solely on LanLingJin sect disciples to overpower the horde of corpses. However, the disciples were still in the early phase of their career and were unable to battle at a high standard. Even when another LanLingJin disciple died at the hands of a fierce corpse, Jin GuangShan insisted on other disciples filling the deceased’s spot. He had always had little regard for the lives of even his own sect members which was even more evident in this moment of crisis.

Many high ranking sect members from all different sects looked up towards the stygian tiger seal with abhorrence, but couldn’t muster the energy to bring down the stygian tiger seal. With Wei WuXian unconscious, the tiger seal lacked a master and didn’t have a cultivator to channel resentful energy to, so resentful energy continued to be dispersed with not controller. In its half-destroyed state, the seal was far from being as powerful as it was at the beginning, but the effects were still devastating as another ten cultivators fell to the power of the stygian tiger seal.

Dread, despair, hopelessness. A variety of emotions filled the cultivator’s heart, but none as much as fear. They may have been cultivators of the highest calibre, but in the presence of death, there was no one who could remain unmoved. Sweat gathered on their foreheads and soaked their clothes as the battle comtimually tore away their morale.

The air of the sombre battlefield had become discouraging and gloomy. The clang of swords could still be heard reverberating across the stone tiles of the plaza like an anthem of death. The crestfallen cultivators watched the swarm of fierce corpses and malicious ghosts that had yet to die a final death with gloom. Amongst the clang of swords and fierce ghosts roars though, there emerged another sound.

A cry of frustration and roar of rage struck the plaza like the rumbling of thunder. All eyes suddenly turned to the source of the sound. Dressed in fluttering purple robes, Jing Cheng stood holding Zidian whose crackles of electricity sparked brighter than anyone had ever seen before. Fuming rage could be felt as Jiang Cheng’s eyes swivelled to search for Wei WuXian. However, Wei WuXian was currently unconscious and shielded by Lan WangJi, so despite Jiang Cheng’s efforts at scouring through the scores of fierce corpses and people, he couldn’t find a trace of his target. 

“Jiang Cheng! Hit the stygian tiger seal!” Lan XiChen shouted in fear that Jiang Cheng might indiscriminately start attacking in his mentally unstable state.

Jiang Cheng glared at Lan XiChen with eyes wrathful eyes. He forcefully tore his gaze away from XiChen as he directed all his resentment towards the floating seal in the sky. His bitter tears still clung to his cheeks as his he clutched Jiang YanLi’s body. Gritting his teeth, Jiang Cheng passed his beloved sister’s body to a YunMengJiang Sect disciple. ZiDian glowed with purple electric shows as if demonstrating its master’s fury.

With a loud roar, Jiang Cheng soared towards the stygian tiger seal. Onlooking cultivators felt their moods lift as they looked towards the sky. When Jiang Cheng neared the seal, he swung ZiDian. The crackling whip lashed towards the stygian tiger seal and wrapped around it in vice grip. Within moments, Jiang Cheng had sent an onslaught of electric currents through ZiDian and on0to the tiger seal. Despite Jiang Cheng’s best efforts, the seal refused to break. Jiang Cheng saw red. He and this seal could not exist in the same plane of existence! Seeing that the huge voltage of electricity could not break the seal, he withdrew ZiDian and approached the seal at high speed. The distance closed and resentful energy surrounded Jiang Cheng. Without regards for his own life, Jiang Cheng raised his fist and gathered all the spiritual energy in his body. In an epic moment of triumph, Jiang Cheng’s fist landed on the tiger seal causing an enormous ripple of resentful energy to spill from the seal. Blackness covered the sky as a huge surge of resentful energy swept through the battlefield like a sharp blade. The already wounded cultivators were thrown back again hundreds of meters. Being the closest in proximity, Jiang Cheng was instantly knocked unconscious and thrown towards the outskirts of the plaza. He landed heavily on the stone ground and vomited mouthfuls of blood upon impact. In the blast, Lan WangJi had held onto Wei WuXian again and had been thrown a few metres away from his brother. His grip on Wei WuXian had slipped and Wei WuXian’s body was a few steps from his own. The four sect leaders were pushed back tens of metres and sent tumbling to the ground. Spiritual energy from all sect leaders had practically drained away to nothing. Without any cultivation at that moment, they could only barely retain enough consciousness to protect their wounds from further harm. Even moving slightly could cause excessive irritation of their injuries, so almost every cultivator in the plaza was immobile at that moment.

The stygian tiger seal had been taken down. The largest crack on the seal expanded and the seal directly split into two parts again. With no more resentful energy to keep it floating, the two pieces fell to the ground. No one paid attention to where the seal had fallen. The final wave of resentful energy the seal had released had injured everyone on the battlefield. Many cultivators had fallen unconscious in the blast. Those conscious essentially only consisted of sect leaders and renown cultivators with strong spiritual energy, but even they didn’t have the energy or the means to move. Thankfully the sudden dispersal of resentful energy had cut off the energy supply for fierce corpses. The talismans attracting malicious ghosts had also been destroyed, so there were essentially no threats left. However, what remained of the battle were thousands of dead bodies wearing the uniforms of every sect in attendance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

While no one bothered searching for the fallen pieces of the seal, there were those who were lucky enough to be in the path of its descent. The first part fell near Jin GuangYao whose eyes widened at the sight. The second piece, covered in cracks, landed ironically on Wei WuXian’s body. The stygian tiger seal thudded onto Wei WuXian’s chest and slid down the smooth fabric into Wei WuXian’s robes. The sudden thud of the seal onto Wei WuXian’s body drew him back into blurry consciousness. Wei WuXian’s eyes flickered open in confusion as he gazed around at the sheer destruction surrounding him. His gaze was bleary and unfocused, but even then, he felt satisfaction upon seeing the entire plaza carpeted in dead bodies. Slowly, he drew himself up and stumbled. There was no resentful energy in his body left to use. He couldn’t even command a corpse to support him. Without a choice, he willed his legs to keep moving away from the scene. His body swayed dangerously left and right as he tried to walk.

A few steps away, Lan Wangji saw Wei WuXian regain consciousness. A sense of relief flooded him as he realised that Wei WuXian was ok. However, upon seeing Wei WuXian stumble left and right, Lan Wangji felt is heart jump from his throat again. He worried that Wei WuXian would fall and injure himself again. Despite the tearing pain in his limbs and throbbing injuries gushing blood, Lan Wangji forced himself to stand up. He relied on BiChen’s support to move towards Wei WuXian who stumbled away in no particular direction. Every step was agony, but Lan Wangji’s determination overrode his pain. If the cultivators involved in tonights massacre were to find Wei WuXian, there was no doubt that he would be executed. Lan Wangji’s heart gripped as he thought of that possibility. He willed his steps to move even a little faster towards Wei WuXian.

XiChen who lay helplessly on the ground on the border of consciousness could only watch as his brother staggered towards Wei WuXian with firm determination. His stern, stoic face had traces of devotion and care as he looked at Wei WuXian’s back. XiChen could feel his heart drop as he watched his brother stagger to Wei WuXian and gather him in his arms with caution. The wounds on his brother’s body were still fresh and pouring blood. His robe and skin were charred. His spiritual power was almost empty, but still, even then, Lan Wangji pressed his lips to the crown of Wei WuXian’s head as he embraced Wei WuXian’s waist and flew away on BiChen using the last of his spiritual energy.

Lan WangJi’s sword swayed dangerously as he flew away from Nightless City. He was overdrafting his spiritual energy in order to keep BiChen in the air; his spiritual energy was so drained that only after a matter of minutes, he staggered off BiChen in a forest void of human contact. He gently lay Wei WuXian down and held his hand. The backlash from seal’s destruction caused Wei WuXian’s consciousness to be blurry, but Lan WangJi was glad to see Wei WuXian’s eyes open. He sat in lotus position holding Wei WuXian’s hand as he gathered spiritual power again. Part of the spiritual energy he gathered mended his injuries and the other part went to Wei WuXian to mend his injuries. This method of gathering was slow, but Lan WangJi didn’t have a choice. Their injuries were too severe to be able to escape without gathering spiritual energy. Lan WangJi solemnly sat in lotus position for two hours gathering enough spiritual energy to fly again.

At the two hour mark, Lan WangJi diligently brought Wei WuXian towards the river to wash away the blood on their bodies. He couldn’t waste time washing their whole bodies, but he could at least use some water to wash away the blood on their skin. Every ounce of spiritual energy was critical to Lan Wangji, but regardless, he still opted to use some to warm up some water. Carefully, Lan Wangji used the warm water to gently rub away the blood on Wei WuXian’s face using his hand. The bloody water dripped off his hand and landed on his robes, but Lan Wangji didn’t move to clean it up. Instead, he carefully swept away the dried blood on Wei WuXian’s hands and feet. He checked over Wei WuXian’s wounds and fixed up is robe before he cleaned his own face with startlingly cold water. Everything Lan Wangji did, he did for Wei WuXian first.

Lan Wangji gently pulled his hands through Wei WuXian’s hair with grace and care as he pulled it into the same hairstyle that Wei WuXian usually wore it in. After fixing up the red ribbon, Lan Wangji nodded in satisfaction. A faint smile that disappeared like the snow in spring appeared on his thin lips for a short moment. Bundling Wei WuXian up in his arms again, Lan Wangji stood on BiChen again as he flew away from the forest.

Lan Wangji had a few locations in mind, but taking Wei WuXian’s situation in mind, he considered YiLing, being high in resentful energy, the best place for Wei WuXian to recover. Flying low over forest trees and above houses, Lan Wangji avoided population dense areas in favour of rural towns with fewer people. All the while, Lan Wangji tenderly held Wei WuXian in his arms. He fixed his position multiple times to let Wei WuXian rest in the most comfortable position and stopped at multiple locations so that Wei WuXian could rest. He knew that the cultivators in Nightless City would be seeking Wei WuXian out when their spiritual energy had recovered, but even then, he refused to rush their journey.

Along the way to YiLing, Lan Wangji stopped at a private room in a restaurant to rest for another hour after draining his spiritual energy again. The waiter had appeared unwilling to receive his order until payment was received, but eventually he managed picked a few spicy dishes which he tried to feed unsuccessfully to Wei WuXian and ordered a single dish of plain congee for himself. Lan Wangji looked at the full plate of spicy uneaten food with a slightly guilty feeling. Wei WuXian was conscious but non-responsive, so even when Lan Wangji tried to feed him, Wei WuXian could not eat. In the past, Wei WuXian had practiced Inedia before, but even with Inedia, the lack of food for long periods of time could make a practitioner weak.

Lan Wangji was torn between leaving the food or bringing it with him, but eventually made the firm decision to find more food along the way, lest he feeds Wei WuXian cold food. There were three plates of food on the table of which two were practically untouched. With a brisk wave of his billowing sleeve, Lan WangJi picked up the untouched plates and left the restaurant. By the time he was outside, two tables had received a dish they hadn't ordered and WangJi was no longer carrying the plates of spicy food.

Standing on BiChen again, Lan WangJi held Wei WuXian as he left the rural town and continued south to YiLing. Holding Wei WuXian’s face to his chest, Lan WangJi pressed his hand on Wei WuXian’s head so that he would not feel the cold wind as they flew.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Four hours after the massacre in Nightless City, the cultivators in the plaza had recovered a good part of their spiritual energy. Of the cultivators, Lan XiChen was the first to move. His injuries were severe and his footing was unstable; however, the intense fear of being the second to find his brother was overwhelming. He helped Jin GuangYao up and exchanged some pleasantries before going in search for his uncle. During the battle Lan QiRen had become separated from both his nephews. He was a fair distance away on the other side of the plaza close to sect heads of smaller sects. Lan QiRen was sitting in lotus position gathering spiritual energy. He opened his eyes as XiChen approached. Almost silently, XiChen knelt next to Lan QiRen and repeated the story of how he saw his brother leave. Lan QiRen’s face changed many different colours.

Lan WangJi, “If we don’t find him first, we may not be able to save his reputation or the sect’s reputation.”

Lan QiRen, “Return to the sect first. Lan WangJi may have returned. Gather the younger disciples. WangJi evacuated them earlier. They shouldn’t be too far. I will meet you at Cloud Recess.”

Lan XiChen nodded. Nephew and uncle dispersed. Lan XiChen’s movements were quick. He found the whereabouts of the junior sect disciples that his brother had abandoned and rounded them up to send back to the sect. At this time, many other practitioners were also beginning to finish gathering their spiritual energy and do a headcount of their surviving disciples. 

“Uncle,” Lan XiChen called.

Lan QiRen approached Lan XiChen.

Lan XiChen quietened his voice as he whispered to Lan QiRen, “Uncle, WangJi left with the Wei WuXian.”

Lan QiRen’s eyes widened.

His head whipped to Lan XiChen, “Why would WangJi take the YiLing patriarch away?”

Lan XiChen shook his head. He also didn’t know what his brother was thinking.

Lan QiChen, “Which way did they go?”

Pointing in the direction that his brother had left, Lan XiChen’s brows furrowed, “Perhaps they’ve gone back to the sect.”

Lan QiRen didn’t hesitate, “We must find WangJi. If it becomes known that Lan WangJi disappeared with the YiLing Patriarch, his reputation will be ruined.”

“It may not be as simple a matter as having his name tainted,” Lan XiChen grit under his breath.

Understanding his nephew’s connotation, Lan QiRen nodded with a grave face, “Return to the sect. If WangJi has not returned, assemble the elders.”

Lan XiChen nodded as he received the order. He motioned to the GusuLan sect disciples and motioned for them to follow. The uninjured supported the injured and carried the dead as they flew on swords following Lan XiChen’s lead. Lan QiRen followed behind to support the remaining members of the GusuLan sect and offer some healing herbs to other sects before leaving.

Members of the GusuLan sect were renown for being upright and honest people. In such situations as tonight’s massacre, it wasn’t strange to see GusuLan sect members offering healing and herbs to the injured, but tonight, not only did the GusuLan sect not stay behind to support the injured or bury the dead, they left before anyone else. Such an odd occurrence didn’t strike anyone as being strange though. Tonight, was a massacre on a scale that couldn’t be compared to. No one had the energy or motivation to help anyone else today. It was good enough that Lan QiRen handed out some herbs before leaving. It was understood that there would be no benefit in asking Lan QiRen to stay any longer. Many minor sects had been destroyed tonight, but the GusuLan sect had strict entry requirements. Even if Lan QiRen saw many despairing, wandering pupils of minor sects, he couldn’t offer sanctuary to them at the GusuLan sect. The wandering disciples would no doubt be absorbed into other sects, so it didn’t matter whether or not the GusuLan sect took some disciples in or not.

The proud and lofty GusuLan Sect was the first to leave at the end of the Massacre of Nightless City. Flying swords dotted the sky in an orderly fashion as XiChen rushed back to the sect. Lan QiRen had caught up with the group and took over at the lead. Lan XiChen farewelled his uncle before leaving the familiar faces of his fellow disciples behind to urgently rush towards the sect. The image of his brother embracing the Yiling patriarch was branded strongly in his mind. XiChen couldn’t brush away the uncomfortable feeling that settled in his heart at the thought of his brother helping another man in his injured state. Stress and worry filled Lan XiChen’s heart as he remembered that both Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian’s injuries were extremely severe. They had not had the time to recover their spiritual energy before escaping the battlefield. Realising that his brother could not have gone too far in his condition, he sharpened his eyes to look for signs of an injured cultivator in the areas he was passing. Unfortunately, his entire trip back to the Cloud Recess was unsuccessful.

XiChen’s oncoming speed into the Cloud Recess was extremely fast. He landed with a loud thud directly in front of the wall of rules that forbade noise. Nearby disciples looked curiously with mild distaste towards the newcomer who had arrived with such a loud and flashy entrance. 

“Senior brother! Your clothes!” a disciple on night duty cried.

Lan XiChen looked down. He hadn’t come away from the battlefield uninjured, but his current circumstances were graver than his appearance.

“Has my brother returned?” XiChen asked with hope laced heavily in his voice.

The disciple shuddered at the harsh tone before shaking his head vigorously, “Han GuangJun hasn’t been seen since he left to go to Nightless City for the ceremony.”

Lan XiChen clenched his teeth as he commanded, “Gather the elders.”

Far in the distance, in a cave settled for the night, Lan WangJi held Wei WuXian’s hand as he channelled spiritual power into his body. Strangely, it seemed as though the spiritual energy was passing right through WuXian’s body. His injuries healed with the assistance of the spiritual energy, but he wasn’t storing any of it like usual. WangJi’s brows creased. Perhaps the backlash of using the stygian tiger seal was worse than he thought. Lips pressed together, WangJi used some spiritual energy to scan Wei WuXian’s body. There were no significant abnormalities compared to his usual state, but for some reason, he wasn’t regaining consciousness. While waiting for Wei WuXian to wake up, he noted the robes that were not crusty with blood. His nose crinkled as the heavy smell of blood and sweat intermingled. He neatly removed his outer robe and set it on a rock in a folded manner. He looked over to Wei WuXian. Since Wei WuXian’s clothes were black, the blood was difficult to see, but blood had soaked so far into the robe that sometimes blood trails were left when the robes swept the floor.

A hesitant hand moved towards Wei WuXian. Cloud Recess’s rules forbid taking advantage of another, but faced with his current situation, Lan Wangji was fairly sure that changing blood-soaked robes was a matter of hygiene rather than improper conduct. A slight redness spread across Lan Wangji’s face as he carefully slipped Wei WuXian’s robes off of him. Mid-way through removing the outer robe, a light clink hit the ground. Lan Wangji moved away the fabric to see what had fallen out of the fabric. The movement revealed the object of tonight’s slaughtering. The stygian tiger seal. The seal had been broken and thus should theoretically be unusable, but it was still an object of danger. Lan Wangji picked up the metallic seal in between his long fingers. He wanted to crush the tiny piece of metal to dust between his fingers, but the stygian tiger seal was an object created personally by Wei WuXian himself. Seeing Wei WuXian’s pitiful state, Lan Wangji didn’t have the will to destroy his efforts despite the dangers that came with the seal. He gently set the seal down beside Wei WuXian and headed towards a small lake close by to clean the robes.

The lofty and unreachable Lan WangJi scrubbed elegantly away at a black robe in the water. The water surrounding him turned a brilliant light red as the blood was washed out. The black material made it difficult to tell the cleanliness of the robe, but when blood was no longer dying the area red around him, Lan Wangji considered it clean. He folded the wet robe for ease of transport and turned to look at his own robe. The previously pristine white robes were severely damaged in the battle. The robe was beyond repair. The restaurant they were at had been disturbed when he arrived and now that Lan Wangji had assessed the damage, he understood the waiter’s concern. Lan Wangji washed out the robe and placed it next to the black robe in a neatly ordered fashion. Under the cover of darkness, Lan WangJi travelled to the village nearby. Seeing a home with laundry out, Lan Wangji placed a gold coin down before retrieving two male outer robes from the line.

Dressed in scratchy robes, WangJi returned to the lake to pick up the dripping robes and headed back to the cave. The warmth of the fire was warmly welcomed as he stepped into the cosy cave. He slipped the stygian tiger seal into WuXian’s drying robes while he sat down to cultivate again. Lan Wangji couldn’t look directly at Wei WuXian at the moment. The blood from the stab wound Wei WuXian had sustained from the three sect leaders had soaked so deeply into his clothes that even his inner robe had to be removed and cleaned. Wei WuXian was, or more accurately, his body was sitting on the ground leaning against the wall in nothing but his underwear. The blush on Lan Wangji’s face deepened further as he pulled Wei WuXian towards him. The male robe that he had brought back was too small for either of them, but it was the best robe he could acquire at the moment. Lan Wangji lightly manoeuvred Wei WuXian’s limbs to wear the robe. In the process, it just so happened that his eyes brushed across regions that he shouldn’t have seen. Feeling his heart beating furiously, Lan Wangji resisted the urge to stare and prod Wei WuXian’s body as he dressed him.

Relief flooded him when the final knot was tied, and the robe’s creases were fixed. A rare smile emerged as Lan Wangji raised his hand to rest on Wei WuXian’s cheek. His thumb brushed across the thin, pink lips briefly before being whipped back as if it’d been burnt. Staring at the offending hand with a creased brow, WangJi sighed. He shook his head before moving Wei WuXian’s body again to rest on his lap.

Sorrowful eyes looked down at the face that could only be described as faultless. Lan Wangji raised Wei WuXian’s hand to his heart as he began circulating spiritual energy through both his golden core and Wei WuXian’s body.

The swirls of energy had been passing through their bodies for two shichen sticks when Wei WuXian’s body began trembling. Lan Wangji’s eyes snapped open as he monitored Wei WuXian with a worried gaze. He could sense the turbulent energy within Wei WuXian’s body, but couldn’t decipher the cause. The turbulence became stronger as a mix of energies rushed around Wei WuXian’s body.

Lan Wangji rapidly manipulated his spiritual power to calm the energies within Wei WuXian’s body, but without his qugin, the effects were limited. He tightly gripped Wei WuXian’s hand in a vice-like grip and hurriedly circulated the two opposing energies in his body.

“Wei WuXian? Wei WuXian!”

Lan Wangji grit his teeth, he forcefully pushed down the negative energy in Wei WuXian’s meridians and suppressed the recoiling energy. As he did so, whiplash from the energy entered his own meridians. Lan Wangji spat a mouthful of blood. He ignored his own condition to focus on Wei WuXian and found to his relief, Wei WuXian’s condition had stabilised.

Relieved, Lan Wangji finally relaxed. The suppression was only temporary. The chaotic energy would definitely act up again, but for now the issue had quelled. Sending another stream of spiritual energy into Wei WuXian, Lan Wangji found that there was suddenly a resistance that hadn’t been there previously. Lan Wangji’s gaze moved up towards Wei WuXian’s face as he noticed a shift in his peripheral vision. Wei WuXian’s eyes had snapped open to a glazed consciousness.

“Get lost.”

Lan Wangji looked to Wei WuXian’s face in shock.

“Get lost,” Wei WuXian repeated.

Lan Wangji’s face turned hopeful as he continued to hold Wei WuXian’s hand, “WuXian? Wei WuXian?”

The only response that Wei WuXian cared to give was, “Get lost.”

Lan Wangji’s lips pursed. His brows furrowed, he swept a hand over Wei WuXian’s forehead to test Wei WuXian’s temperature. Wei WuXian’s temperature was hotter than normal, but not alarmingly abnormal, so he looked over the rest of Wei WuXian’s body to ensure that nothing was controlling him.

After a thorough check, Lan Wangji had no option other than to concede that Wei WuXian wasn’t being controlled and was telling him to get lost. Unfortunately, regardless of Wei WuXian’s current wish, Lan Wangji had no intention of leaving Wei WuXian. He gripped down on Wei WuXian’s hand and continuously sent his spiritual energy to Wei WuXian’s dantian. Even though Wei WuXian’s deep, haunting calls echoed around the cave every few minutes ordering Lan Wangji to remove himself from the situation made Lan Wangji feel a twist in his stomach, he prioritised Wei WuXian’s health above all. With careful movements, Wei WuXian was being hugged to Lan Wangji’s chest. The slow, resounding heart beats thumped melancholically in Wei WuXian’s ear. It was only unfortunate that despite the deep feelings lingering in that heartbeat, the unspoken message had never, could never, would never be able to be heard by the oblivious person lingering on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Each time Wei WuXian’s order was repeated, a new layer to the thick barrier around Lan Wangji’s heart grew again. The layers had been torn down over the months of meeting Wei WuXian slowly reverted to become more solid than they had been previously.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The night passed. The injures incurred by the victims of the Nightless City Massacre were gradually healing. Wei WuXian, the YiLing Patriarch, had become an entity feared far and wide overnight. It became known that the YiLing Patriarch was the one responsible for the death of the only daughter of the YunMengJiang Sect, Jiang YanLi. The sect head of the YunMengJiang sect, Jiang Cheng, had already ordered for funeral preparations for his elder sister and was mourning her loss greatly within the confines of Lotus Pier. Rumours had it that betting halls around the country had already begun accepting bets for whether or not the young head of the YunMengJiang sect would seek revenge on the man he had considered his brother.

Sect heads from all involved sects in the Nightless City Massacre had sent out men to search for the YiLing Patriarch. No one knew how Wei WuXian had managed to escape in the chaos of the final explosion, but as long as he was not confirmed dead, he was still a threat. The sect heads had listed a reward for his capture. If he was alive, the sect heads wanted his body. If he was dead, the sect heads wanted his corpse. The only exception to this was the GusuLan sect who had kept quiet throughout the entire incident. Not enough time had passed since the incident for the people to become suspicious of the GusuLan Sect’s lack of involvement; however, they would need to act soon or else they would attract speculation from other sects about their approach reagarding this matter. However, at the moment, the whole of the GusuLan sect were already dealing with manny issues of their own, for instances, the GusuLan sect head’s younger brother, Lan WangJi.

Lan XiChen sat in at the head of a long table in front of thirty five GusuLan sect elders.

He turned to the guard, “Has there been any news?”

The guard shook his head.

“We need to find WangJi as soon as possible. If he is indeed still with the YiLing Patriarch, it is very likely our sect will suffer more damage from other sects for being in association with the Wei WuXian. We can’t afford to lose more of our members in this scuffle,” XiChen stated firmly.

The elders nodded their heads.

One elder raised their hand slightly as they spoke, “Two elders must remain within the GusuLan sect in case Han GuangJun returns or the other sects begin causing trouble. The rest will disperse to find Han GuangJun.”

XiChen confirmed this command and continued, “He left in a westerly direction with Wei WuXian, who is severely injured. It is unlikely that they would have been able to go very far. Begin the search in that area. Remember, not a word about this is to be mentioned to anyone outside of this room.”

The elders nodded. They determined the two elders who would remain within the sect by seniority and dispersed. The elders left quietly in civilian clothing to prevent their disappearance from being too conspicuous. XiChen also left through the much less crowded back entrance. He had informed QiRen, who returned a little while earlier, of the situation and had proposed to leave him in control of the sect; however, even his uncle saw the gravity of the situation and hurriedly insisted on joining the search. In this manner, thirty five of the most senior GusuLan sect members headed towards the Yiling region.

The search for Lan WangJi long and arduous. For XiChen who worried gravely for his brother, the search seemed to last a lifetime as he felt the shadow of misfortune creeping towards him for every moment his brother was not found. He recalled his brother carrying the unconscious Wei WuXian away from the scene of destruction and felt his heart twist. An epiphany had occurred to him the day of that massacre. The fondness his brother had for the Wei WuXian wasn’t normal. He had realised this fact long ago, but he never realised that it had grown to the extent where he could disregard his own body to save him. It seemed almost as if…he loved him. XiChen had nothing against such relationships, but his heart couldn’t help but go out to his brother, for the person who he’d fallen for was the Yiling patriarch. It truly was ill-fated misfortune.

It was a bitter two days until XiChen finally heard good news.

“Sect Head! We’ve found him!” an elder cried as he rushed towards him.

“Where is he?” XiChen asked quickly.

“He’s in a cave not too far from the Yiling River. I’ll guide you there,” the elder answered.

XiChen followed the elder closely. As he neared the Yiling river, QiRen’s shadow broke through the obstructive vegetation. Behind him were the other twenty-nine elders. Each person flew on the swords as they tore through the thick forest towards the cave. There was a mix of excitement, relief and tension hanging in the air as they moved hurriedly to find Han GuangJun.

In the cave, WangJi was seated on the floor cradling Wei WuXian in his arms as he transferred spiritual energy to him. As he felt the approach of many high level practitioners closing in on the cave, his eyes gained a wary light. He trained his eyes on the entrance of the cave and readied BiChen as best he could while settling WuXian into his lap. He waited a few agonising moments as he felt the familiar clean aura of the GusuLan Sect. Realising that this was the party that had been sent to search for him, he lowered BiChen.

He lowered his head to gently place his lips over WuXian’s forehead with barely noticeable touch. By the time he raised his head again, his expression had returned to its normal frosty countenance and were watching the familiar face finally arrive at the entrance.

Lan QiRen marched into the cave and stared at his younger nephew.

“Uncle,” WangJi greeted.

There was no surprise on WangJi’s face as he observed his uncle. It was as if from the start he had known that he would be caught. He tightly gripped onto WuXian’s hand as he continued to transfer spiritual energy to him.

“Explain yourself, Lan WangJi,” Lan QiRen thundered.

WangJi looked for a moment before shaking his head, “There is nothing to explain.”

QiRen’s eyes widened. This nephew of his had never talked back even once no matter how strict his training or how minor the work or how terrible the punishment, but for this young man in his arms, he was willing to break his oath of filial piety?

“WangJi, associating with the Yiling patriarch will bring nothing but downfall to your name and the sect’s. Even then you still protect him?” QiRen challenged.

WangJi didn’t reply. His response was obvious. Even if it dragged the name of the whole GusuLan sect into the depths of hell, he would still protect Wei WuXian.

A vein throbbed on QiRen’s forehead as he grit his teeth, “Good. Very good. WangJi, you’ve always been a good nephew, but today we must rid you of the Yiling patriarch.”

At these words, WangJi’s eyes concentrated on his uncle. The thirty three elders withdrew their swords as they readied for battle. WangJi gently placed Wei Ying down onto the floor as he stepped in front of him.

Noticing his actions, XiChen couldn’t help but voice in a tone tinged with sadness, “You’d go against your sect for him?”

WangJi raised BiChen in response. No words were needed to communicate WangJi’s intention. His eyes held the conflicting emotions between protecting his beloved or returning with his elder; however, there was never any hesitation. He buried the pain deep within his chest as he faced thirty four members of his sect, each of whom were rightfully respected in their own right.

The thirty three elders didn’t move. They looked towards Lan QiRen for direction as they awaited their orders. This was a matter of the sect, but first and foremost, was a matter of blood ties. The elders had no right to comment on the matter.

Lan QiRen gripped his fist.

“You truly won’t leave him?”

Lan WangJi didn’t falter.

Wei WuXian’s cries to be left alone echoed around the cave.

“Even knowing that he wishes for you to leave?”

There was no change.

Lan QiRen sighed as he turned to the seniors. He raised his hand and directed the signal his cherished nephew.

This time, even the ties of blood couldn’t protect him. The nephew, who’d never broken a rule or disobeyed a command, had committed the most severe of crimes. The thirty three seniors understood the signal and raised their swords. Tension was thick in their air as both parties eyed each other apprehensively.

Lan QiRen’s hand fell as it motioned towards Lan WangJi. Thirty three elders rushed towards Lan WangJi. Both parties had mutual respect for each other and had an understanding that their differing opinions caused this conflict; however, one side had to give in and Lan WangJi was unwilling. He swept his gaze behind him to get one more look at Wei WuXian before rushing to meet the elders. He put as much distance as possible between the Wei WuXian and the fighting. BiChen clashed against more than five swords at a time as the elder fought as one group. The balance between the elders was delicate. Each strike was calculated and teamwork had no faults. Despite this, the elders did not combat with full force. There was no denying that thirty three elders fighting against a single WangJi would win; however, the GusuLan sect prided itself in being fair, and such a battle couldn’t be classified as such. Hence, despite the numerous participants, no one person put in their maximum power. However, as the battle progressed, they noticed that WangJi was truly putting his life on the line in order to protect the YiLing Patriarch. 

A blade slashed past WangJi’s face with the accuracy of a sniping archer. First blood. Droplets of blood rolled down WangJi’s face and fell to the stony ground. Harsh steps crushed the blood underfoot as the conflict grew fiercer. The thirty three elders had begun to sweat as they matched up to their junior. However, WangJi was not in much better condition. The hallmark robes of the GusuLan sect gathered dust and blood as blades clashed together in an almost melodious song of combat. The teamwork between the elders could be sensed with one strike. Two elders positioned on either side of WangJi as they attacked in a pincer formation. A third sword manoeuvred towards WangJi’s neck with swiftness surpassing the previous two swords leaving little room for leeway. WangJi jumped backwards in defence and landed in the range of another waiting elder as yet another sword was aimed at him. A loud rip sounded out as WangJi’s robes were turned to a mere rag of its former glory. The tip of the blade drew blood as it grazed painfully against WangJi’s arm. Sparks of spiritual energy were thrown towards him giving him not a moment to rest. WangJi dodged as many as he was able to; however, the overwhelming amount of spiritual energy being hurled at him was beyond his capabilities. Exhausted and injured, WangJi fought with every remaining ounce of energy in his body. Even as more elders banded together to join the fight, WangJi remained unmoved and continued to swing BiChen as skilfully as he could manage. However, despite his strength and resolve, in the end determination wasn’t enough to overcome the force of thirty three elders. He stood panting heavily a short distance away from Wei WuXian covered in gashes and cuts of varying severity as he continued to stand in opposition to the sect rules he’s once treated as golden. His uncle looked on with hopelessness in his heart as he watched the thirty three elders fatigue. Their resolve to defeat WangJi had dimmed over the course of the battle. They didn’t understand WangJi’s fixation on WeiWuxian; however, they respected it. That did not, however, mean that it was excusable. They too were littered in wounds and their hearts filled with anger as they fought the golden child of the GusuLan sect. The clang of metal against metal rang with the piercing clash of impact. Three blades, four blades, five blade plunged towards WangJi with steadfast resolution. They met BiChen’s frigid blade and collided with the raw spiritual energy that even WangJi could not best unscathed. Those blades withdrew with crimson blood.

Lan QiRen’s fist clenched tightly. He waved his sleeve sending a formidable wave of spiritual energy through the area. All forms of combat halted in that moment. Lan QiRen stepped in the direction of the cave. Lan WangJi could sense the atmosphere shifting. He watched as his uncle approached Wei WuXian. Heart beating heavily, he forcefully willed himself to move. His overworked body swayed on the brink of collapse as felt panic rising in his chest. He had faith that his uncle would not kill Wei WuXian. YiLing Patriarch or not, members of the GusuLan sect would never discriminate based on their choice of combat. What power one had was not a cause for judgement; it was how a person chose to use that power that mattered to them. However, seeing his uncle move closer to Wei WuXian, someone who Lan QiRen regarded with much distaste, he couldn’t quell his heart.

Lan QiRen knelt down next to Wei WuXian whose glazed eyes did not respond. He continuously shouted to be left alone; however, it didn’t seem as though he were truly conscious.

“WangJi,” Lan QiRen called as he observed Wei WuXian’s condition, “He is on the verge of death. What you choose to do for him now will decide whether or not he lives.”

WangJi froze. Thirty three elders watched on in stony silence. They hoped to just leave the YiLing patriarch where he lay, but the sect rules condemned such behaviour.

“I need to save him,” WangJi frowned.

“You won’t be able to. It appears he had an injury prior on top of his current injuries,” QiRen stated firmly.

“How?”

“I will return him to those at Burial Mound if you return to the sect to receive your punishment. They may have a method to save him over there.”

WangJi turned his gaze to face Wei WuXian. His heart tightened as he faced the reality of WuXian’s declining state. He couldn’t save him. His fist curled up tightly as he made an unhesitating decision.

“I will return WuXian to Burial Mound and return to the sect to receive my punishment.”

“When you have returned the YiLing Patriarch, you will return to the sect with no resistance to receive your punishment,” QiRen commanded.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

With thirty three elders trailing them, QiRen and WangJi made their way towards Burial Mountain in a manner not dissimilar to the presentation of an honour guard. WangJi personally carried WuXian as dozens of elders dressed in torn and bloody robes, once orderly and respectable, followed behind. The sombre silence and melancholic atmosphere settled over the procession as they walked step by step towards Burial Mountain. WangJi had no energy left, however, even then, he was determined to personally send WuXian back. He left deep tracks wherever he tread. Few times, WangJi, in his exhaustion, stumbled. Each time, regardless of what damage he might take, WangJi tightened his grip on WuXian in preparation to take the impact if he were to fall. During the journey, no one spoke. The elders respectfully gave WangJi space as they walked behind him. QiRen kept his eyes trained on WangJi with brows furrowed; however, he made no attempt to engage in conversation while he followed behind his determined nephew.

The journey Burial Mountain was short but seemed shorter still as WangJi watched WuXian be taken away to the secretive depths of Burial Mountain. His unwavering resolve to save WuXian had never shifted; however, as he watched WuXian be taken away from him, he could feel the piercing loneliness and regret that threatened to consume him. WangJi quelled his restless soul and immediately returned to the sect where he knelt in front of the walls of rules with neither repentance nor regret in his eyes.

XiChen watched his younger brother as he kneeled with his eyes closed as he awaited his punishment. XiChen approached his kneeling brother with pity as he rested a hand on his shoulder and quietly spoke, “Young Master Wei, he has made a grave mistake. He has angered and offended the whole JiangHu. There is no use protecting him anymore. The whole of the GusuLan sect cannot shelter Young Master Wei.”

WangJi opened his eyes as he turned to XiChen.

A rare soft expression graced his face, “I cannot say with certainty whether what Wei WuXian did was wrong or right but even still, I am willing to bear the crimes that he committed alongside him. This is my burden.”

XiChen’s expression dropped as he heard WangJi’s willingness to bear WuXian’s crimes. Sympathy grew strongly within him as he focused on his brother’s forehead ribbon fluttering lightly in the gale. Those in the GusuLan Sect belonged solely to one when their ribbons were taken away. It seemed that Wei WuXian had taken his brother’s heart, but left his ribbon. Lan XiChen’s hand dropped to his side as he mourned the inevitability of the situation.

XiChen had but one question, “Is he really worth it?”

WangJi raised his head to meet his brother’s gaze for the first time since returning to the sect and nodded. An aura of peace seemed to overcome WangJi as his gaze warmed at the thought of Wei WuXian. The hard stubbornness soon returned at the thought of his oncoming punishment, however, WangJi’s change of countenance hadn’t bypassed his eyes. 

Sighing in defeat, XiChen retreated and allowed QiRen to take over.

QiRen nodded to the thirty-three elders who looked to each other with concern. They observed their own injuries and understood that the punishment was going to be extremely heavy. Eyes widened as QiRen passed the discipline whip to the nearest elder. The elder looked to QiRen who nodded again.

“WangJi, disciple of the GusuLan Sect, punishment for injuring thirty-three elders, leaving the sect without permission, drawing your sword on innocent people, escaping with the YiLing Patriarch and refusing to return to the sect, thirty three lashes with the discipline whip for each elder you injured.”

Those gathered drew in a collective breath as they heard the punishment that had been passed down.

WangJi nodded stoically, “I accept this punishment.”

XiChen whispered quietly in QiRen’s ear; however, QiRen was unwilling to hear out XiChen’s explanation or words. His anger had truly gotten the better of him this time.

WangJi didn’t hesitate. He gracefully removed his robes until he was kneeling in front of the wall of rules in only his pants and forehead ribbon. He closed his eyes and braced himself for a pain that was likely to be beyond anything he’d ever suffered.

QiRen raised a hand as he indicated for the first elder to bring down the discipline whip. Those of the GusuLan sect were fair; they only punished those who were deserving and never showed bias during punishment. Regardless of their allegiance to the same sect, WangJi had committed a wrongdoing. The first elder brought the discipline whip down with a crack straight across WangJi’s back. The harsh crack drew blood within seconds as a bloody wound ripped across the once unblemished back. WangJi felt the searing hot sensation of the whip meeting his skin. His face grimaced as he felt the pain continue to grow even after the whip left his back. He refused to let his posture slip as he felt blood dripping slowly down his back. The searing pain turned to piercing agony as the second ticked by. WangJi’s lips pursed tightly as sweat dripped down his forehead and into his forehead ribbon.

The second elder stepped up to the wall of rules with the whip. With one swift motion, a second crack of the whip was heard. A second laceration developed instantly on WangJi’s back as the agony continued to spread and increase. WangJi forcefully pushed himself to continue kneeling as his hands turned into balled fists. Eyes closed and brows furrowed, WangJi found that his legs had buckled under the strain of piercing pain ripping through his body.

The third, forth and fifth elders landed their blows rendering WangJi close to unconsciousness as blood from his wounds dripped down his back in large quantities. WangJi’s previously weak body was slowly deteriorating even further with each whip strike; however, QiRen was still unwilling to relent.

By the tenth strike, WangJi’s cousciousness was barely being held on through sheer determination. XiChen stood to the side pleading with QiRen to continue the punishment another day; however, again, QiRen continued.

WangJi stayed conscious solely through the circulating the last dregs of his spiritual power. His movements were sluggish as he sat with his back progressively continuing to slouch forwards. Blood trickled down his chin as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. Even when facing the torment and agony, WangJi had yet to utter a single sound.

WangJi coughed blood as he spluttered, “Continue.”

XiChen knelt beside WangJi with panic-filled eyes, “You could die at this rate, Lan Zhan!”

WangJi grimaced as he repeated, “Continue.”

Frustration overpowered XiChen as he resisted the urge to raise his voice or continue persuading his brother. He pressed a hand to WangJi’s back and began to transfer spiritual energy.

WangJi could feel the ebbing flow of spiritual energy entering in streams and instantly cut off the flow.

“What are you doing! Let’s not talk about getting through this punishment, you might not even be able to survive if you keep going at this rate!” XiChen stated firmly.

“This is my punishment,” WangJi uttered.

XiChen grit his teeth, “Is this punishment for injuring the elders or failing to protect the YiLing patriarch?”

WangJi didn’t answer. The answer was obvious.

XiChen warned, “If you don’t survive, you’ll never be able to see him again.”

WangJi seemed to rouse as he registered XiChen’s words. He seemed to contemplate what his brother said and didn’t resist when XiChen began transferring spiritual energy to him again.

QiRen didn’t step forwards to stop XiChen. He watched with despairing eyes as he watched XiChen and WangJi’s interactions.

The punishment only continued with WangJi seemed to have somewhat recovered. However, despite the transfer of spiritual energy, there was no doubt that WangJi would be in recovery for months, potentially years.

The punishment continued as the eleventh whip slashed a long gash down WangJi’s back. A twelfth, thirteenth and soon twentieth and twenty-first soon followed. When the final whip lash landed, WangJi’s back was a mangled mess of convulsing muscle, ligaments and exposed bone. The flesh of WangJi’s back no longer resembled regular muscle but a mass of blood and frayed, almost minced, tissue combined. Blood had long since coated the floor along with scar in the ground from where the whip had landed after slashing WangJi’s back. Only after the thirty-third whip had landed did WangJi finally allow himself to slump down onto the floor in a pool of blood and sweat. Unconsciousness was welcome relief after hours of agonising pain. Many of the elders pitied WangJi as they observed the whip slashes that would forever leave a scar reminding WangJi of his failure to adhere to the sect rules.

QiRen raised his arm as he dismissed the elders. The elders bowed and respectfully turned to file out. All were curious of QiRen’s next steps, but none dared display their curiosity as they kept their heads towards the exit. XiChen held a hand to WangJi’s chest whilst sending a constant stream of spiritual energy to his brother. WangJi’s back didn’t have any area with intact skin, thus forcing XiChen to transfers energy less effectively through the chest instead.

XiChen turned up to face his uncle and asked, “What do you intend to do now?”

QiRen sighed. His anger had long since vanished.

“Take him to his room. His recovery will be long,” QiRen commanded.

XiChen held WangJi as he stepped onto his sword to return his brother to his room. 

In the days following, hundreds of rules began appearing on the wall of rules. Freedom of the GusuLan sect juniors was restricted even further as the new rules laid specific rules for conducting oneself outside the sect and with visitors within the sect.

Lan Zhan’s eyes remained closed for two weeks. During Lan Zhan’s unconsciousness, the four remaining sects began stirring. The massacre, dubbed the Massacre of Nightless City, having killed thousands of cultivators, had rocked the whole of Jianghu causing an unprecedented unity the desire to slaughter the YiLing Patriarch.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

XiChen read over a message that had been sent to him by JiangCheng. The message displayed clear intent to lead a siege to the Burial Mounds to destroy both Wei WuXian and remnants of the QishanWen sect. As he read the message, XiChen’s brows furrowed. He placed the message down on the table and massaged his temple as he thought about the potential consequences of the siege for when his brother woke up. He quickly and unhesitantly declined participation in the siege respectfully for the reason that his sect members were still heavily injured from the Nightless City bloodbath. The message was sent out the same day. He couldn’t participate in the siege, but he also couldn’t stop the siege. If the other sects came to find out that his brother had tried to protect the Yiling Patriarch, the GusuLan sect may fall into dire times. XiChen’s responsibility extended beyond being an elder brother, he was first and foremost the leader to a sect that was relying on him to lead with wisdom. He could only mourn on his brother’s behalf.

Three weeks after the Massacre of Nightless city, Jiang Cheng took the force he’d gathered to storm Burial Mountain. Jiang Cheng carried ZiDian by his side with fury in his eyes as he marched upwards towards the caves. Following behind him were fifty cultivators who had recovered from their injuries sustained during the massacre with vengeance in their minds. The colours of all four remaining sects stood out in the repugnant black landscape. Those wearing the GusuLan sect uniforms were the fewest. The GusuLan sect leader had declined participation in the siege, however, some GusuLan sect members had responded to the open invitation to participate in the siege. Resentful energy swarmed the group in gloomy fog that settled at their eye level. The aura of Burial Mountain was so heavy the screams of those who’d died here could almost be heard. Jiang Cheng marched with purpose with total disregard for the dense fog. Murder in his eyes, he made it half way up the mountain when he saw the person he’d once considered his brother standing at the peak looking down at him. Almost unrecognisable, Wei WuXian held Cheng Qing in his hands as the battled hardened lines on his face deepened. His robes billowed in the baleful wind sending his dark aura spilling straight to Jiang Cheng’s group. Wei Ying observed the faces that stood halfway up the mountain with nonchalance. Many of the group were familiar to him, but as he turned to look at the cave that stood behind him, he stood he ground. He wasn’t just the YiLing Patriarch; he was the protector of the remnants of the QishanWen clan. Hardening his heart, WuXian lifted Cheng Qing to his lips as he began playing the notes of his first melody. Jiang Cheng lifted ZiDian up and with a decisive crack, ran towards WuXian before he could play the last notes of the melody. The cultivators following Jiang Cheng raised their weapons as they rushed towards Wei WuXian. Ghosts began appearing from the resentful energy in the surroundings while corpses began rising from the dirt as they were summoned with the power of a few notes. This was the power of one who had mastery over the dead. Hundreds of corpses and ghosts appeared in formation and ran towards Jiang Cheng in a single-minded fashion of destroying all that lay in front of them. The four sects clashed with the corpses and ghosts head on. Dozens of corpses and ghosts were instantly slain upon the initial impact. ZiDian personally saw to the final deaths of five corpses with a single slash. The righteous cultivators inched towards Wei WuXian as they unleashed their cardinal of long-range weaponry. Flares, deity-binding nets, arrows and talismans shot towards the YiLing patriarch in a violent wave of murderous intent. The long-ranged weaponry had little effect on WuXian who used his fierce corpses as shields.

As WuXian stood playing his tune, his eyes flashed between red and black. He stood his ground as the surge of cultivators swung their swords towards him. Jiang Cheng took the lead to swing ZiDian towards WuXian. WuXian sidestepped as he briskly countered commanding a fierce corpse to retaliate. He swung around his body to land a solid kick on the chest of an approaching cultivator and sent him tumbling backwards into numerous other people. Using the momentum from the kick, he jumped back several feet away from close combat range as he continued to play to flute. Each note of the melody radiated with piercing strength as more corpses came to its command. There were thousands of dead at Burial Mountain. Hence, the fight now was grossly uneven as hundreds of fierce corpses began digging their way from the ground; their lumbering bodies stumbled their way to the righteous cultivators formation as they readied whatever weapons they had held when they’d died.

Jiang Cheng found himself surrounded and grossly outnumbered. During their siege he had been relying on Wei WuXian to be injured and unable to defend himself. Seeing the current situation, he realised what a miscalculation it had been to assume that if the four sects could recover in three weeks, that the YiLing patriarch could not.

Jiang Cheng grit his teeth as he commanded, “Each cultivator is worth tens of Wei WuXian’s corpses. Prove your worth!”

The cultivators following Jiang Cheng swallowed down their dread as they raised their swords in a triumphant manner as they swung towards the oncoming horde of oncoming corpses. Each person took down tens of corpses before slowing down from fatigue.

“We can’t keep this up for long Sect Leader Jiang!” a cultivator cried.

Jiang Cheng was well aware that the strategy he’d proposed would not win the situation, however, his goal had never been to win through numbers.

Jiang Cheng clenched his fist as he yelled out, “Keep the corpses occupied!”

Jiang Cheng lunged forwards, ZiDian in hand. He alone rushed to Wei WuXian, who continued to play Cheng Qing with seriousness Jiang Cheng had never seen before. WuXian’s eyes flashed a bright red as Jiang Cheng approached him. The rhythm of his notes grew quicker and quicker as corpses gathered in front of him as a barrier that shielded him from Jiang Cheng.

“Don’t run away, you bastard!” Jiang Cheng yelled.

Wei WuXian paid no heed to Jiang Cheng’s yelling as he stepped back and created another bony barrier against Jiang Chengs onslaught.

“You killed my sister! Jiang YanLi died that night! You took vengeance on behalf of those Wen Clan dogs, but you killed your own sister! You are no hero! Just a hypocrite!”

WuXian’s playing halted for a moment, “Sister…she died?”

“You killed my sister! Your slave killed my brother-in-law! And now you want to kill me? Try it! I dare you!”

Jiang Cheng’s countenance frosted over as he dared Wei WuXian to kill him. He stood tall with his chest pushed forwards as he pulled a fierce corpse’s sword towards his heart.

“Aren’t you the mighty YiLing Patriarch? Play a few notes and stab the sword in then! You brought downfall to my whole family but are too cowardly to kill me, the one you called brother for decades? You coward!”

Jiang Cheng pushed to sword deeper; the threads of the YunmengJiang Uniform began unravelling as the sword pierced through the clothing.

Wei WuXian watched this scene with a series of expressions. His face changed from reluctance to anger to grimacing pain. Eyes flashing black and red, WuXian felt pain pounding his head as Jiang Cheng continued to talk. He could feel his emotions conflicting with a second source, the stygian tiger seal. The seal had been the reason for his fast recovery, but also the reason for his lessening control. The intervals between each period of black and red within Wei WuXian’s eyes grew shorter as they eventually turned a perpetual red. WuXian cried out in pain as he gripped his head in pain.

Jiang Cheng took the opportunity and launched an attack on Wei WuXian. ZiDian whipped across WuXian’s chest sending him flying backwards into the cave wall. WuXian writhed on the ground for a few moments before standing back up with a mild tremor. ZiDian landed on WuXian again slashing him directly across the face. A bloody laceration appeared as ZiDian returned to its master’s side. WuXian touched his face; when he pulled his hand away, a trail of blood began trailing his movements. WuXian stated down at his fingers to see blood dripping down his fingers. Curling his hands into a fist, WuXian’s eyes began to turn redder still. He lifted his Cheng Qing to his mouth in a smooth motion as he began playing a familiar tune. The music seemed to still the air as the melody enveloped the area. As WuXian played his melody, Jiang Cheng whipped ZiDian towards him constantly. There was no pause inbetween each strike as WuXian was forced to dodge the constant barrage of strikes. He continued with the melody with swift grace as he had when he was still in Lotus Pier. ZiDian brushed across WuXian’s body multiple times leaving searing gashes through his robes. Upon playing the final note of the melody, a creeping smile grew on WuXian’s face. Eyes deep red, the smile grew until dimples formed. Fifteen fierce corpses dug their way through the rancid earth to reveal themselves. The cultivators that had come up Jiang Cheng yelled as they watched the head of the YunmengJiang sect lunge headfirst into combat with the fierce corpses. Jiang Cheng fiercely charged into the oncoming threat with murder on his mind. ZiDian instantly cut through half of the fierce corpses and the second half was just as easily dispatched. WuXian had already begun playing a new melody faster, stronger and more violent than the last. Jiang Cheng whipped ZiDian towards WuXian and was blocked by the arm of a fierce corpse. The corpse bared it’s rotten teeth to Jiang Cheng as it hissed and swept it’s sharp claws towards him. Jiang Cheng stepped back to dodge the swiping claws as he kicked upwards towards the corpse’s neck. Using his spiritual energy as a medium, Jiang Cheng pushed his movements to the limit as it swept across the corpses neck and drew with it, it’s head. The fierce corpses’ head rolled onto the ground with a wet splatter.

Glowering, Jiang Cheng looked up to see WuXian demeanour had changed. The menacing air became biting with malicious intent as another corpses was summoned. The corpse was different to those who’d come before it. Unlike those who’d risen from the ground, this corpse emerged from the cave at the top of the mountain. It was a corpse that WuXian had personally experimented with . It stood tall and straight and held weaponry the four sects would war over. The corpse was well maintained and held an aura of power with it. The corpse rushed down from the mountain and swung it’s sword at Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng narrowly missed being struck. The sword grazed his clothing leaving a rip in the Yunmeng Jiang sect robes. A thin line of blood appeared on Jiang Cheng’s chest appeared in seconds. Jiang Cheng hissed. ZiDian swung towards the corpse with vicious ferocity and bound it’s arms together. A surge of electricity was sent through the whip in an instant causing the fierce corpse to vocally groan and roar in its dissatisfaction. WuXian’s playing became more violent as his eyes grew redder. The fierce corpse’s movement became more chaotic as it thrust it’s sword in a bizarre series of movements with no pattern. Jiang Cheng struggled to maintain his ground as his stamina dwindled. His teeth clashed together in frustration and anger as he glared at WuXian.

As Jiang Cheng fought, he noticed how his stamina was decreasing exponentially. He couldn’t maintain his current level of combat. The fierce corpse would never tire; however, he could feel his spiritual power draining slowly. Jiang Cheng’s breathing had gotten noticeably heavier with each blow the fierce corpse landed on him. The clanging of sword echoed throughout the ravine as the blur between sword and whip became undefinable. WuXian watched the battle with a gleeful smile; his red eyes narrowed with joy as more cuts began appearing on Jiang Cheng’s chest. He played his flute with beautiful harmonies, and sent more resentful energy to the corpse with every note. The whole of the YiLing region overflowed with negative energy. As long as WuXian was playing, he would never run out of strength. The tiger seal had achieved complete control over WuXian.

Jiang Cheng could see the Wei Ying he knew slowly fade away behind the cover over a malicious artefact.

Jiang Cheng soon felt his spiritual energy drain completely. The fierce corpse loomed in front of him as it glowered at him with hunger in it’s eyes. The fierce corpse dove towards him with sword outstretched.

Jiang Cheng, feeling the situation was hopeless, yelled out his resentment one last time, “Our nephew will have no uncle, you bastard!”

The fierce corpse’s sword plunged towards Jiang Cheng. One moment. Two moment. For a few short moments, WuXian’s eyes shifted between red to black as he heard Jiang Cheng yell. The short flicker of sanity in WuXian allowed the fierce corpse to shift just enough to stab into Jiang Cheng’s arm in place of his heart. Jiang Cheng yelled as the pain exploded around his body.


	9. Chapter 9

  


Chapter 9

WuXian’s face grimaced in pain as he pulled back control over his body. His eyes flashed between black and red. With sheer force, he willed himself to retain control to destroy the fierce corpse. The melody he played grew gentler as WuXian slowly delivered the corpse back into the ground. As he WuXian fought for control over his own body, Jiang Cheng regained enough strength to send ZiDian flying in his direction one final time. ZiDian landed a clean hit on WuXian which sent him flying ten metres away. The rocks peppering the mountain cracked as WuXian’s body slammed into them. WuXian twitched as he attempted to stand up again. WuXian supported himself up; however, he had lost the battle for control. Red eyes stared straight at Jiang Cheng as WuXian jumped towards Jiang Cheng with bared teeth. WuXian held no blade, but even still he readied a huge surge of resentful energy that condensed into a single fist. The raised fist aimed straight for Jiang Cheng who readied himself to take the oncoming blow. WuXian thrust his punch towards Jiang Cheng. The fist was inches from Jiang Cheng chest when Wuxian’s eyes turned black again. With shocked eyes, he drew back the resentful energy and attempted to pull back his fist. The energy stored within the fist was so intense that it allowed no leeway to dodge or redirect the punch, so WuXian could only convert the energy used to form the fist to pull it back to avoid kill his brother. Unfortunately, by drawing back his fist, WuXian was effectively overdrawing his strength and caused severe internal damage. WuXian coughed up a mouthful of blood that splattered across Jiang Cheng’s body. Upon retracting his fist, the force used to pull his fist back pummelled into him and sent him flying back a second time into the pile of broken rocks. Blood spewed from WuXian’s mouth as he lay lifelessly on the rocks. His eyes began fading completely to red again. However, without the strength to move, WuXian could only twitch as he lay on the ground. With the loss of a controller, the stygian tiger seal turned from red to black within WuXian’s robes. The sudden loss of connection affected the tide of the battle. The fierce corpses had suddenly lost their controller and no longer had a commander. The fierce corpses retreated from battle as returned to what had been origin of their power. Jiang Cheng kneeled on the ground panting as he attempted dragging himself to WuXian’s body. However, before he could approach WuXian, the fierce corpses returned to WuXian’s side. Within WuXian’s body was a fierce battle of resentful energy that was contained within a confined space. The resentful energy had been extremely compressed to allow WuXian to store more; however, it now wanted an outlet. The consequences of WuXian’s body giving up was the slow bloating as the negative energy reverted to its usual volume. The fierce corpses that gathered around WuXian seemed to also be able to sense the powerful resentful energy stored within WuXian’s body. They were also able to sense that WuXian was no longer capable to putting up a fight. Having just faced an enemy they were not able to defeat, the fierce corpses desired power. The fierce corpses reached out to grasp WuXian’s body. The sharp nails dug into WuXian’s skin drawing blood. The scent of blood attracted the fierce corpses as they dug their claws deeper. Eventually the fierce corpses grew bolder as they made the first scratch. The cultivators following Jiang Cheng watched on in horror as they witnessed a fierce corpse tear a live person to shreds. No one stepped forwards. The aim was to kill the YiLing Patriarch, but if the fierce corpses were willing to do their dirty work, why would they step forwards. It was the YiLing Patriarch’s own fault for harnessing such malicious energy.

Only one person didn’t hold such thoughts.

Jiang Cheng watched the scene with widened eyes.

Jiang Cheng’s emotions were in turmoil as he roared, “Don’t touch him!”

Jiang Cheng rushed towards WuXian as he waved ZiDian wildly knocking off fierce corpse left and right. However, ZiDian alone was no match for a horde of fierce corpses feasting on the negative energy.

“Help me!” Jiang Cheng screamed in desperation as he killed fierce corpses left and right.

No one stepped forwards. Jiang Cheng could feel tears in his eyes as he attempted to free his brother from the clutched of the dead. WuXian’s body had swollen to the point of appearing dangerous. Seeing this, the cultivators who’d followed Jiang Cheng up the mountain pulled him back. One person alone wasn’t enough. Eight cultivators wrestled with Jiang Cheng in order to pull him back to safety as they watched WuXian’s body expand more and more.

With a loud bang, WuXian’s flesh and blood splattered across the land. All the cultivators held traces of WuXian’s blood on their hair, clothes and skin. The resentful energy stored within WuXian’s body gushed out in streams and dispersed into the air. The fierce corpses rushed to inhale the energy, but were cut down before it could be turned into strength.

Jiang Cheng eyes watered as he watched his Wei Ying die before his eyes. The air stilled. No one dared to move as the Patriarch of the Yunmeng Jiang sect kneeled with his head bowed. No one knew what he was thinking, but no one dared to move until an hour later when Jiang Cheng stood up. Rage filled his eyes as he stared up the mountain.

“Straddlers of the Wen Clan must go too,” he commanded. 

  


Far away from the tragedy that had occurred, a messenger bird landed on Lan XiChen’s desk. XiChen pulled the message free and unfurled the small sheet of paper; listed across the paper and in formal text read a message that XiChen had been hoping not to ever have to read.

“Jiang Cheng, sect head of the YunmengJiang Sect, has succeeded in slaying his brother, Wei WuXian, the YiLing Patriarch.”

Lan XiChen turned his head to look towards his brother’s room. He dreaded to think of the consequences when his brother recovered consciousness.

  


End of Arc One ~ Death of the YiLing Patriarch~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first arc. THe next arc is the mourning arc. Delay anticipated to refresh ont the original (extremely convoluted) timeline.


	10. Chapter 10

Mourning Arc~ 

Chapter 10 

The world was at peace. The fame and infamy of the YiLing Patriarch had spread far and wide and so had news of his death. For the first time since the creation of the Jianghu, there were no malicious battles occurring at every street corner, nor wars occurring between the major sects. However, despite the ever present calm, Lan XiChen sat at his sandalwood table with hands clasped together. WangJi had been comatose for four weeks. His wounds were healing slowly; however, XiChen now dreaded the prospect of passing on the news of the YiLing Patriarch’s death to his brother. Since the day he’d seen his brother’s self-sacrificing attitude, he’d understood the depths of WangJi’s emotions. Someone with emotions of such magnitude could collapse under their weight. 

Sighing a breath of frustration, XiChen rubbed his temples as he avoided the issue until its was time. 

It was only a month later when WangJi woke up from his comatose state. WangJi looked up at the ceiling of his bed with mild confusion as his mind combed through his memories sorting the events that had led to the pain that thrummed and travelled throughout his whole body. The intense pain began from his back and seemed to affect the rest of his body in a wave of constant agonising pain. Thinking up to a certain point, WangJi recalled his goal, Wei WuXian. His body shot up into sitting; excruciating pain dispersed throughout his body in an instant sending WangJi doubling over and toppling off the bed onto the floor as he convulsed for a few seconds from unbearable pain. The loud crash onto the ground had Lan XiChen running as he hurried over to check on his brother. When XiChen arrived, he found his brother on the floor sweating with grit teeth in an awkward and unnatural position. 

XiChen carefully helped his brother back into the bed as he cautioned him, “You’ve been unconscious for a month. Your muscles haven’t healed and you’re still recovering from the whip lashes of the discipline whip. Don’t move around too much.” 

“Wei WuXian?” WangJi demanded. 

“Just focus on rest for now, ok?” XiChen suggested carefully. 

WangJi wouldn’t budge, “Wei WuXian?” 

XiChen sighed as he took in a deep breath, “Focus on getting well first. I will tell you when you’re in a better state.” 

XiChen could sense WangJi discontent with his answer, however, at this moment, XiChen was confident that if he told WangJi of WuXian’s fate, his brother would drag his injured body out to YiLing to personally confirm it with his own eyes. WangJi’s current state was very fragile; if WangJi were to make the journey out to YiLing now, he would irreversibly damage his body. Hence, XiChen had given WangJi a condition. During WangJi’s recovery, the entire GusuLan Sect had been forbidden from mentioning the YiLing Patriarch. Any sect member who disobeyed would be forced to kneel for three days and three nights in front of the Wall of Rules. 

Having heard his brother’s condition, WangJi sectioned his day between rubbing healing ointment on himself, exercising his deteriorated body and recovering from sudden onsets of excruciating pain. He spent every waking moment trying to recover in ways that he was able to control. His desperation could be felt throughout the whole of the GusuLan Sect. WangJi could barely move his body, but despite the pain that tore through his joints, he pushed through to hear the name Wei WuXian come from his brother’s mouth. Those within the GusuLan sect supported WangJi during his recovery by preparing medicated baths and medicinal herbs, but were blissfully unaware of the extent of his injuries. To those outside of the sect, the renown Han GuangJun was repenting in front of the wall of rules for a grave crime that had never been announced. 

WangJi strived for recovery. However, at the back of his mind, a thought settled. XiChen had been unwilling to tell him about Wei WuXian for a reason. However, he pushed aside his doubts and negative thoughts as he considered the impossibility of a powerful character like WuXian being taken down. WangJi kept himself busy every day for if there was a day he wasn’t busy, his mind reverted back to the images of WuXian banishing him from the cave on YiLing Mountain. The pain still struck deep in his memory as he remembered WuXian’s final words to him before their parting. 

Day in and day out, WangJi endeavoured towards returning to his former level of function; however, his wounds were so deep that even after a month of recovery, WangJi was barely able to walk short distances. WangJi was unwilling to wait any longer to receive information he’d be longing for for so long. One month after waking up from his comatose state, WangJi forced himself to take each agonising step to enter XiChen’s room with an expectant expression. 

XiChen observed WangJi’s state, “You haven’t recovered enough yet.” 

WangJi looked at his brother with a stony expression as he shook his head. 

XiChen sighed as WangJi seated himself opposite him with an unchanging expression. 

“Listen to me WangJi…” XiChen started. 

“Wei WuXian,” WangJI cut off curtly. 

XiChen felt his throat close up as he reluctantly began telling WangJi of the YiLing Patriarch’s death. 

“WangJi, listen to me closely,” XiChen started, “Wei WuXian was the YiLing Patriarch. He made many mistakes in his lifetime.” 

“I will bear the cost with him,” WangJi stated immediately. 

XiChen shook his head, “It’s not that simple. WuXian made many enemies. Right after your punishment, the YunmengJiang Sect head ascended the YiLing mountain and a battle was fought.” 

“Wei WuXian?” 

“Wei WuXian’s power backfired on him during the battle. He… he didn’t make it,” XiChen choked out. 

“He didn’t make it?” 

XiChen placed his head over WangJi’s as if to stabilise him, “He…died, WangJi. The YiLing Patriarch, he died.” 

WangJi wasn’t processing XiChen’s words anymore. His head tilted downwards until his expression couldn’t be seen. XiChen opened his mouth to comfort his brother, but WangJi abruptly stood up and stumbled back to his room. WangJi could feel the unbearable pain tearing at his muscles; however, compared to the pain that he could feel weighing in his heart, his muscular pain was insignificant. 

WangJi stumbled over the threshold when his body couldn’t support him any longer. His knees hit the floor in a deep thud. WangJi’s hands curled into fists as he knelt on the floor. The shattering pain in his heart caused his stony expression to fall apart. WangJi’s forehead ribbon fluttered down to sweep the floor in a mournful manner. WangJi looked at the ribbon recalling the singular moment the one he held in his heart touched it, pulled it and clasped it tightly. At that time, he’d taken it back with haste, but now, he wished he could thrust this ribbon into Wei WuXian’s hands and forever let him keep it. Memories of Wei WuXian flashed through his mind from the moment they’d met to the final moment he’d seen him alive. The raw pain that he felt from WuXian telling him to leave was ripped open again as he realised that it was now WuXian who’d left. If he had left at that time, would WuXian had survived? 

WangJi felt the overwhelming sense of loss that swept through his very soul as if ripping his most intimate emotions straight from his heart. He couldn’t quell the denial that a part of him was crying; however, he also knew that his brother would never play this cruel a joke on him. WangJi gripped his ribbon tightly as he imagined WuXian’s lost soul reaching to grasp it. 

WangJi’s stony expression was lost to his grief as tear drops began dripping onto the hardwood floor. The initial one or two drops became a steady stream as WangJi expression changed from impassiveness to uncontrollable sorrow. He hadn’t saved him. He’d promised that he would save him. The resounding heartbeat that had once beat strongly with untold affection beat stronger with the notes of anguish as the reality of his loss set in. The things that he’d wanted to convey, he would never be able to. The things he’d wanted to apologise for would forever be stuck in his throat. Above all, WangJi was remorseful. He would never regret the time they met nor the time they spent together, but he would forever be sorry that he and his sect had played a part in his death. This endless guilt would eat at him forever. 

“I will bear all the consequences…please…come back, Wei Ying” WangJi whispered. 

WangJi held his hands to his chest as if to shield himself from the shattering sorrow. As he welled in his grief, he wished he could have taken WuXian’s place. He wished he could have protected Wei Ying and shielded him from harm. He wished he’d insisted on taking Wei Ying away the day of the Sunshot campaign, but wishes could only be wishes. Wei Ying had slipped away from him like a butterfly that flew from his grasp. 

‘Wei Ying. I love you... I loved you’. 

The rhythmic thudding of tears onto the hardwood floor slowed as WangJi wiped away the tears he’d shed. WangJi stood up to sit on the bed as he stared aimlessly. The pain caused by Wei Ying’s death was still raw and cutting. His thoughts settled endlessly circling around the memories he’d had and the remorse he felt. 

WangJi’s hands had not left his ribbon since entering his room. He held the ribbon close to him as if it were a precious memento. Hair spilling down onto the bed, WangJi spent the night completely immersed in his own memories. Throughout the night, XiChen passed by WangJi’s room find that his brother had not rested for even a moment since hearing the news of Wei WuXian’s death. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: 

“Lan Zhan, get some rest. You’re still recovering,” XiChen encouraged cautiously. 

  
WangJi didn’t move. XiChen observed his brother’s unchanging face and position. Lan Zhan had been seated in the same position since yesterday, and despite XiChen’s best effort, he could not encourage his brother to rest. XiChen wasn’t sure whether his brother was ignoring him or couldn’t hear him, but his wounds were at risk of causing more damage if his brother continued to push himself. 

XiChen gently tapped Lan Zhan’s shoulder as he called out to him, “Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan? Wake up.” 

WangJi didn’t move. XiChen sighed as he stood back up. He worriedly paced the room before deciding that calling his brother again would be a fool’s errand. As he walked away, he knocked into the table accidentally. A dull thud emerged as a small box fell to the floor. The box bounded once before spilling its contents at WangJi’s feet. A crisp ringing sound echoed around the room as an intricate bell stopped directly in front of WangJi. The bell was small with intricate designs carved out. Attached to the bell was a purple tassel that clearly marked the bell as belong to a person from the YunmengJiang Sect. 

XiChen’s eyes widened as he saw the bell. It wasn’t forbidden to hold items from another sect, but for his brother to have one could only mean it had once belonged to Wei WuXian. 

WangJi’s eyes scanned left and right to search for the source of the sound. His eyes landed quietly on the bell. As he observed the bell, his lips tightened and he reached down to grab it as if afraid it would be dirtied by the spotless floor. He held the bell in his tight in his embrace as he stared down at it. 

“Lan Zhan? Are you ok?” XiChen called. 

XiChen watched his brother’s reaction intently as WangJi’s gaze focused on the bell. WangJi rubbed his fingers over the bell as if to engrave every crevice and carve into his soul. The bell rattled lightly as WangJi moved it to sit comfortably between both hands. He clasped it gently with both hands with utmost care as his eyes flickered to his brother. 

“I want to see him,” WangJi said bluntly. 

XiChen felt pity begin to swell in his heart as he turned his gaze away, “There is nothing left, WangJi. When he lost control of his spiritual power, he lost his body. He is no more.” 

WangJi trembled as he heard his brother speak. He pursed his lips tightly together. 

“I will go to Burial Mound,” WangJi stated. 

“You’re still recovering, Lan Zhan. I can’t allow that,” XiChen said softly. 

“I will go to Burial Mound,” WangJi insisted. 

WangJi’s eyes left no room for negotiation as they narrowed when talking to his brother. He would go to Burial Mount with or without permission. 

XiChen sighed as he gave in, “Take someone with you.” 

WangJi shook his head. He refused. This was his journey. He wouldn’t allow anyone to go with him. 

“Lan Zhan, I’m really worried. You can’t go alone in your current state. If you get in trouble, not even you Han GuangJun title will protect you. The sect can only protect it when you’re in its borders. Burial Mound is beyond any of the sects and there are many demonic cultivators who hate the GusuLan Sect and those in it,” XiChen eased. 

WangJi shook his head. He refused vehemently. 

XiChen could only given in to his brother’s stubbornness, “I will ask uncle.” 

XiChen left WangJi’s courtyard to seek permission from his uncle. Even before XiChen had left, WangJi had already pushed himself to stand up and begin preparing to leave. His muscles ached with intense pain, however, as he looked at the bell, WangJi could only remind himself that Wei Ying’s pain had been dozens of times worse than his own. WangJi let the bell chime a few times as if reliving the memory of when the owner was alive and carefully stowed away the bell for safe keeping. 

XiChen had only stepped foot into the yard when WangJi began to leave. 

“Lan ZHan, the sun is setting. If you intend to leave, do it tomorrow. You didn’t get any rest today,” XiChen urged. 

WangJi didn’t stop his steps. 

“Lan Zhan, if you don’t rest tonight, I will rescind all permission to leave the sect and send the elders to retrieve you if you don’t rest tonight!” XiChen commanded. 

WangJi’s steps paused. If XiChen truly sent the elders to retrieve him a second time, he wouldn’t be able to make the pilgrimage to Burial for another year at least. WangJi’s gaze turned frosty as he stared his brother. He stoically stepped towards the bed, pulled the covers and closed his eyes. 

“…WangJi, you haven’t eaten dinner yet.” 

WangJi didn’t move. 

XiChen could feel a headache coming as he left his brother’s room again as the human embodiment of frustration. 

Given that WangJi’s brother was the sect head, WangJi followed his instructions exactly. WangJi stepped began his journey when the first rays of sunlight shone through his window. WangJi gave his brother no face. Dawn signalled the beginning of day and WangJi had followed his instructions exactly and left without saying goodbye. 

As he stepped down the down towards the road to YiLing, he passed by a field. In the distance, two little rabbits slept cuddled side by side. One rabbit white and the other black. A rare smile graced WangJi’s face as he watched the pair of rabbits. WangJi approached the rabbits and gently raised the black rabbit to his chest. The rabbit didn’t rouse; its chest gently rose up and down as it continue sleeping. 

An aching pain seemed to eat away at WangJi’s heart the more he stared at the rabbit. WangJi caressed the rabbit with slow movements as he watched the black rabbit shift back towards the white rabbit in its undisturbed sleep. It would have been nice if they’d been like this too. 

WangJi left a message with a passing junior running errands as he left the sect. ‘Look after the rabbits’. 

WangJi left the GusuLan Sect, carrying his GuQin, riding BiChen at a slow speed. Truthfully, given his wounds, WangJi ideally shouldn’t even be walking; however, WangJi was insistent on making the journey to Burial Mound. The journey was slow. No one dared to stop the famous Han GuangJun despite his slow method of travel. When WangJi’s spiritual energy had depleted, WangJi resorted to walking and resting.

At mid-day, WangJi paused his journey to visit a restaurant nearby. He sat down at the wooden table and ordered three items: a plain congee, a pot of tea and a small serving of a spicy dish. All three items arrived promptly given their easy preparation. WangJi pulled the congee and tea towards himself. The spicy dish was placed directly adjacent to him. WangJi looked up from the spicy dish towards the empty seat behind him. He ran his hand over the table towards the dish and pushed it and arms width away from the edge of the table before he turned back towards his own food. WangJi ate silently with no pause or interruption. WangJi finished off his food quickly and left equally fast. As he left, he carried the spicy dish; however, the dish was no longer in his grasp when he left the door. A passing table had suddenly received a complimentary order of a spicy dish.

WangJi left the restaurant with slow steps as he made his way towards YiLing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently working frontline. Please cut my editing and upload speed me some slack until my brain starts functioning again.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Intermittently flying and walking, WangJi was able to cross a fair amount of distance in one day. He was unwilling to rest on his journey to YiLing, but he could feel his energy draining since his injury. Succumbing to exhaustion, WangJi stayed the night in a small roadside inn. Sitting on the bed, WangJi looked towards YiLing with his hands clenched. He released a quiet sigh as he lay on his back to rest.

When the dawn rose announcing the arrival of another day, WangJi rose with it. He once again left on BiChen. The wind brushing across his face seemed sombre as he followed the direction of the sun towards the land of darkness. With every step that WangJi took, a mixture of dread and anticipation filled his soul. He could feel a sense of impending denial and anxiety at the prospect of Wei Ying’s death which only amplified with every step closer he took to YiLing.

WangJi prayed to whatever deity would be kind enough to answer his prayers. ‘Let Wei Ying still be alive’.

WangJi traversed the rough terrain for half a day until he neared a second village. Entering the town, WangJi stepped down from BiChen and traversed on foot to prevent startling the villagers. The Town was small and contained only a dozen or so thatched homes and a communal area that was currently holding a market for the villagers. The villagers noticed the unfamiliar presence wandering through the stores and ogled without reservation at the peerlessly handsome newcomer. Unmarried saddled themselves up with make up and nice dresses as they noted his rich attire and noble temperament.

However, despite their best attempts, WangJi couldn’t be swayed. Even when the ladies boldly proposed to follow him home, WangJi didn’t pay any attention. WangJi’s eyes shifted back and forth as he caught a familiar scent. Reaching a certain store, an unnoticeable smile spread slightly on WangJi’s face as he saw the merchandise on the table.

“Sir, we have some nice loquats for sale. Are you interested?” the shopkeeper asked.

WangJi responded with a nod, “Mn.”

The shopkeeper shouted out a random price well above the loquats worth after he noted WangJi’s pristine robes.

Nearby villagers began arguing with the shopkeeper as they angrily scolded the shopkeeper for scamming the handsome young man.

Unlike the villagers, WangJi didn’t feel any anger. He simply dropped the stated money down and grabbed the bag of loquats as he walked away.

WangJi smelt the familiar scent of loquats as his expression softened. He peeled a fruit and slipped it into his mouth. The delicate, sweet taste of loquat satisfied WangJi ate them on his journey. He saved half to be eaten later as required. WangJi didn’t halt his journey as he ate the fruit. He was constantly moving towards YiLing.

The journey to YiLing took another three days. All three days, WangJi had pushed himself to reach YiLing even little faster. WangJi approached the towns surrounding YiLing with a sense of anxiety. The towns near YiLing had all suffered because of Wei Ying’s death. Originally, Wei WuXian had been their protector and had shielded not only Burial Mound, but also those living within the vicinity of YiLing. The shops had accepted the YiLing patriarch’s protection without a second thought as if it were natural, however, now that he was gone and the shops nearby were struggling with thieves and powerful characters and people who hated the YiLing patriarch, they no longer spoke so positively about Wei WuXian. Instead, the shopkeepers continually demeaned Wei Ying’s efforts and stated that they had never required his help. The shopkeepers sneered at the name Wei WuXian and stated that it would be better had he never been born.

One shopkeeper grew particularly brave as he stated, “The YiLing Patriarch was just a coward. He killed everyone during the massacre and then came running to hide in YiLing. I can’t believe such a coward used to protect us. His protection was measly too and he was really distant.”

Of those nearby, some nodded their heads in agreement while few shook their heads and ignored the ignorant shopkeeper. Regardless of what had occurred since his death, Wei WuXian had protected them and sheltered them who lived close to the notorious Burial Mound. Life was like this before the YiLing Patriarch, but for the short time that the YiLing Patriarch had protected them, they had gotten addicted to his deterring presence.

WangJi clenched his fist as he looked towards the shopkeeper who spoke. He could feel his nails dig deep into his palm as he repeated the rules of the GusuLan sect continuously through his mind. WangJi could feel the intense anger growing within him as he looked at those who nodded alongside such ignorance. Clenching his teeth tightly together, WangJi moved away from the area towards Burial Mound. Frost eyes glared at those who had spoken such words. The nearby shopkeepers shivered as they turned to see WangJi swing his sleeve as he walked away.

The closer WangJi got to Burial Mound, the more his heart dropped. WangJi’s visage dropped slightly with every step as his hands began trembling. At the bottom of the mountain there was destruction everywhere. Burial Mound was originally an area that was dark and gloomy; however, it now looked the picture of tragedy. Fallen trees and deep craters scarred the land as smoke continued to envelope the whole of Burial Mound in its devastation. Birds of prey flapped their wings as they cawed waiting for their next meal. The colour black seemed to have etched itself into the very heart of Burial Mound as all traces of light seemed to disappear the further one looked. Wherever WangJi stepped, he left behind footprints of ash. Despite the dark aura Burial Mound exuded, there wasn’t a bone in sight. WangJi searched the area with mounting dread. Nothing. There was no one living or dead. No bone in sight. Nothing that would signify anyone had ever lived here. He felt his breath hitch as his gaze trailed up to the cave that stood at the top of Burial Mound. The pain in his creaking bones and aching muscles protested as WangJi pushed himself to climb the steps to the summit.


	13. Chapter 13

The sensation of burning coursed down WangJi’s throat as he felt heat intensify and his injuries worsen. He breathed quickly with the climbing altitude and relied on BiChen to help stabilise himself as he climbed. The searing pain traversing all regions of WangJi’s body never let him forget its presence. He walked step by step through the ash covered dirt for miles past ever crater, crack and fallen tree in his path with a sombre expression. On the way, he never once saw a person or bone belonging to a remnant member of the QishanWen Sect. Hundreds of people had been here previously, but now, it was unknown whether the ash that marked the ground was from vegetation or human remains.

As WangJi neared the cave, a sense of foreboding washed over him. Previously, he felt ever increasing anxiety and denial; however, now that he could see the scene before him, he couldn’t fool himself any longer. Long trenches had been cut through the earth where ZiDian had made its mark. Tens of them streaking over each other in every imaginable direction all aiming to hit one target the YiLing Patriarch. Patches of earth had been disturbed where fierce corpses had once risen. The earth told the tragic story of the fight that occurred here. WangJi searched the area desperately. He recognised the whip marks left in the land as belonging to that of the YunmengJiang Sect, but there was no sign of Wei Ying anywhere. He scoured the land searching for so much as a piece of bone or a bit of flesh, but to his dismay, he found naught. 

WangJi searched for hours trying to find some sign that Wei Ying might still be alive. He trailed the path of whip lashes and stepped the path following the damage, but still, he found nothing. In these hours, WangJi’s eyes gradually filled with the dismay of acceptance. His elegant fingers clawed the dirt searching for hints as his hands gathered into fists in frustration.

Why?

Why was there no sign of Wei Ying?

WHY?

Eventually, WangJi expanded the area of his search. WangJi climbed towards the cave with heavy steps. His stomach lurched as he saw rows of stone lions that neatly lined the front of the cave. Others may not know, but he knew. Each stone lion was a grave marker. Given the lack of bones elsewhere on Burial Mound, it was unlikely that underneath these rocks were any bodies; however, when WangJi saw the rows of stone lions that extensively lined from one wall to the other, his lips pursed as a weight seemed to press down on his shoulders. Each stone lion represented a life and there were over a hundred stone lions gathered here left by members of the GusuLan Sect who had participated in the raid against Lan XiChen’s orders.

WangJi reached down and brushed his hand against a large stone close by to him that was bigger than the stone lions. He picked up the stone and gently placed at the very front. Kneeling in front of the stone, WangJi could feel the tension in his body draining as he gently used his spiritual power to carve away at the stone. His tortured body was finally given a rest as WangJi finally allowed some semblance of emotion to break through his constant mask of indifference. When a mask is worn long enough, it eventually becomes the real face. WangJi finally allowed the grief he hadn’t allowed himself to feel before this, to show its head. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gently touched the large stone carving. WangJi grasped BiChen and slowly carved the rock into a rearing lion grave marker. On the base, he simply carved out ‘Wei Ying’. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that Wei Ying had died in such a gruesome manner, but the scene before him was truly as such. There were no traces of Wei Ying life or death, but Wei Ying’s death had been witnessed by many people. WangJi had no choice but to believe what he had been told.

Cradling the stone lion in his arms, WangJi whispered, “Guide me, Wei Ying. What am I supposed to do now?”

WangJi stared at the stone unhaltingly as if waiting for the stone to provide a satisfactory answer, but the stone lion never did. WangJi waited for half a szechen stick for a response from the stone that dwelled in his lap. His gazed turned towards the remaining unsearched part of the mountain as he placed down the carved stone. Forcing his legs to stand up again, WangJi began to move. He swayed and tumbled back to the ground in a cloud of ash as his feet seared with pain. WangJi felt the pain traversing the rest of his body as his body contracted in agony. Fingers clawing through the ash, WangJI forced himself to stand up and walk step by step. He swayed dangerously side to side and relied heavily on BiChen in order to keep walking. No matter how small the step he took was, there was no change in how much pain it caused his body. He wanted to stop, to relieve the pain, but the last of part of YiLing hadn’t been searched yet. There was still a chance.

WangJi wasn’t a fool. He knew too. Wei Ying was dead. He just couldn’t accept it yet. Had he come out from his coma just days earlier, he would have been able to save Wei Ying or he could have died with him.

Dragging his tired body to the unsearched area of Burial Mound, WangJi’s gaze scoured the land leading all the way to the border of YiLing. A deep sense of depression dwelled within WangJi’s heart as he saw the destruction of the battle. He could see the fierceness of the battle and the desperation in each scar on the land. Those left of the Wen Sect did not die peacefully. His gaze eventually stopped at a fallen tree. The roots were still attached to a small portion of the trunk, but it was not the tree that incurred WangJi’s interest, it was the red and white cloth, torn from the iconic QishanWen Sect robes, tied to a burnt branch of the tree that caught his attention. Previously, when WangJi scoured the land, there was nothing, but in this area alone, there was evidence of the people’s existence. An entire sect, hundreds of years of history, had dwindled to this remaining scrap of cloth tied to the trunk of a tree.

WangJi cast his gaze onto the burnt tree trunk. The hope that had been crushed having seen the gravestones reignited with every sway and ripple the fabric made. He brushed his hand over the trunk feeling the coarse roughness that crumbled away with his light touch. Gently, WangJi held his hand over the centre of the trunk and sent a subtle wave of spiritual energy. The tree crumbled into dusty cloud of black powder instantly.

What the powder finally settled, WangJi’s eyes widened in surprised when he saw what had once been inside the decrepit tree trunk.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A small body lay curled up in foetal position amidst the ashes. WangJi recognised the child upon first sight. A-Yuan. The small boy was curled up was so small and fragile in appearance it seemed like he would fade away the same way the crumbling tree did. WangJi’s breath quickened as he moved his fingers underneath A-Yuan’s nose. When WangJi felt a faint exhale, he sighed a breath of relief. He carefully pulled A-Yuan towards him as he looked him over for any external wounds. A quick browse over A-Yuan’s body resulted in the conclusion that A-Yuan was injury free. However, A-Yuan’s skin was grey and his body was abnormally hot. It was apparent that even if A-Yuan hadn’t sustained any external injuries, his body had succumbed to the stress and negative energy present in Burial Mounds resulting in a high fever. WangJi cradled A-Yuan in his arm. He completely disregarded the filth the A-Yuan was covered in as he hugged the boy to him as if he were his lifeline. As WangJi carried A-Yuan, whose tiny body was small enough to fit into the nook of WangJi’s arm, he could finally feel himself letting go of the last piece of hope for Wei Ying’s survival.

A-Yuan was all that was left. No doubt, those of the QishanWen Clan had fought to the very end to protect their own people. He could imagine A-Yuan’s grandmother protecting A-Yuan to her dying breath and hiding him amongst the sea of corpses hoping he wouldn’t be found by human or fierce corpse alike. He could imagine those of the remnant Wen Clan standing together fiercely to protect those precious to them. Their self-sacrifice had paid off. There was one life, just one, that hadn’t scattered with the rest of those whose grave markers marked the cave. A-Yuan was the legacy left behind by the righteous members of the QishanWen Clan. Those who were innocent in spite of the evil their clan committed. Those who had protected Wei Ying and those who Wei Ying had protected. Even if the whole sect was murdered, it was enough that this child remained. Even if he thought A-Yuan was enough, WangJi could still feel the welling grief that tore at him like a fresh wound. A-Yuan was the legacy, inheritor, successor because those of the Wen Clan were dead and so was Wei Ying.

WangJi held A-Yuan close as tore his gaze from the empty battlefield and towards the nearest town. A-Yuan was burning up. He needed medicine as quickly as possible. WangJi began moving towards the town. He stumbled many times underneath A-Yuan light weight. His wounds protested as he held A-Yuan with more care. He refused to drop the child as he walked. His pace was slow, but every step was paramount to stepping on knives as WangJi forced himself to breath the rancid air and walk the uneven path down that opened his wounds. He continuously monitored A-Yuan’s breathing and began circulating spiritual energy throughout A-Yuan’s body to help with recovery, however, splitting his spiritual energy between healing himself and healing A-Yuan took a toll of WangJi’s body. WangJi barely held on long enough to reach the town at the base of YiLing. The townsfolk stared in shock at WangJi’s haggard state as they offered their assistance. The doctor, whom the townspeople had called, remained astounded that WangJi was able to make the journey from GusuLan Sect to YiLing given his serious injuries. WangJi purchased medicine for himself and A-Yuan as spent a week recovering in YiLing to recover enough strength to make the journey safely back to the GusuLan Sect. A-Yuan’s temperature had originally been dangerously high, but after being fed medication and careful nursing, his temperature began dropping into a normal range after three days. For three days, WangJi had personally nursed A-Yuan back to health. WangJI had never raised a child of his own, and while he had had to monitor A-Yuan when Wei Ying took him out to play, he had never personally care for anyone as young as A-Yuan. He struggled a lot. With his own wounds bordering on being debilitating, he struggled every few hours to warm up water to clean A-Yuan’s body and keep him warm. He personally boiled the medicine and endured that battle that was giving a sick child. He carefully tended to feeding A-Yuan food and water as he recalled Wei Ying doing so. It was only three days after meticulous caring that A-Yuan finally woke up. Large round eyes stared up at WangJi who looked down at the child with mixed emotions.

WangJi raised a hand and pat the child’s head with a gentle expression. Large, round eyes stared back at him with a curious expression. WangJi took the opportunity to bath A-Yuan in a basin of warm water and dress him in clean clothes. A-Yuan protested as WangJi attempted to clean him with cloth and soap. WangJi’s technique included rough scrubbing and persistent rubbing to get stubborn stains clean as if A-Yuan was a pile of laundry. Large tear drops welled in A-Yuan’s eyes as he complained about the rough treatment with loud cries. WangJi panicked as he his hands darted around aimlessly trying to settle the child. WangJi was unsuccessful. A-Yuan cried himself to sleep again shortly after waking up and WangJi was in more pain than before A-Yuan had woken up. Exhausted, WangJi sat on the bed to restore his spiritual energy. The more energy he circulated, the more the scars on his back burned as if it were a permanent reminder of his failure.

When WangJi awoke the next morning, he noticed A-Yuan already toddling around the room. It was a wonder that the child hadn’t cried out once during the night. A-Yuan, perhaps influenced by the tragedy that he was likely to have witnessed, stayed as quiet as possible as he quietly sat and toyed with the sheets that WangJi had wrapped him up in. WangJi watched A-Yuan waddling with sympathetic eyes. He had lost Wei Ying, but this child had lost everything. Even if he was young, the trauma would be etched into his heart forever.

A-Yuan blinked as he stared up at WangJi, “Dad?”

WangJi’s hands trembled as his eyes widened for a brief moment, “Who?”

A-Yuan’s large eyes remained glued to WangJi as he raised a chubby finger to point at WangJi.

“A-Yuan?” WangJi called.

A-Yuan continued staring at WangJi; however, no recollection or recognition seemed to cross through his eyes.

“Who are you?” WangJi asked the confused young boy.

A-Yuan couldn’t answer. WangJi watched as A-Yuan’s thoughts descended into total confusion as he struggled to confirm his own identity.

A-Yuan’s stare moved down to his hands as if they would miraculously provide an answer. His attention didn’t last long as he dismissed the question and directly began to fiddle with the blankets again.

WangJi carefully raised A-Yuan’s gaze towards him as he asked again, “A-Yuan, do you remember you brother Xian?”

A-Yuan shook his head vehemently as he returned to playing with the sheet. WangJi felt a crushing sense of pity for A-Yuan. His memory had been damaged: perhaps by the high fever, perhaps by the trauma of the tragedy he’d faced. Regardless of the exact reason he’d lost his memory, the Wen sect died a second death when the memories of those gone faded away from the memory of the remaining surviving member. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“You are We- Lan Yuan. Your name is Lan Yuan. You are my disciple,” WangJi stated firmly.

WangJi quickly changed his wording as he realised that Wen was no longer an appropriate family name for the child to keep if he was to survive. Those surnamed Wen were oppressed and targeted even if they bore no relation to the original QishanWen sect. WangJi recognised that this was the child whom Wei Ying had been caring for and a mix between his own selfishness and guidance of the GusuLan Sect values drove him to directly label A-Yuan as his disciple. He was well aware of the challenges that he would face when he returned to the sect; however, he was unwilling to give up on this child.

A-Yuan nodded brightly as he repeated after WangJi, “I am Lan Yuan. Your disciple. …who?”

“Lan WangJi,” WangJi replied curtly.

WangJi picked up A-Yuan and rubbed a wet cloth to clean his face. His movements were gentler than before when he had scrubbed A-Yuan’s delicate cheeks like a sack of potatoes, but it was still rough enough to garner complaint.

“Hurts.”

“Bear with it.”

Once A-Yuan was cleaned up, WangJi left the lodging to purchase breakfast. His steps were slow as the child in his arms pointed out everything he could see left and right in awe and speculation. In those slow steps, WangJi could already feel his movements slowing as pain radiated throughout his body. He purchased the first edible item he could find, a steamed bun, and handed it to Lan Yuan. A-Yuan ravenously tore into the bun as he continued to monitor the surroundings. When WangJi felt his lungs begin to burn from exertion, he placed A-Yuan down to gather himself. His paused at a side street as his breathing laboured intensely from walking the short distance between the lodging to the side street. His eyes turned to A-Yuan who had, at one point, been standing behind him as he struggled to catch his breath. There was no one behind him. WangJi’s eyes darted left and right as he searched for A-Yuan’s presence. There was no sign of A-Yuan within the vicinity. Mild panic set in as WangJi seemingly forgot about his shortness of breath and hurried to search for the missing child. Sweat gathered on his forehead as he pushed his body to hurriedly pace each step in search for A-Yuan. WangJi had assessed that given A-Yuan’s small stature, it was unlikely that he would have been able to go very far in the period of time that he’d been catching his breath. He searched through the stalls that children were likely to frequent like the toy stall and candy stall but A-Yuan wasn’t around any of them. WangJi’s breath hitched as time carried on. He wanted to stop a passer-by and ask if they’d seen A-Yuan, but he couldn’t. His hand had reached out, but the question was stuck in his throat. He dropped his hand as he dismissed the idea and continued searching for a young child wearing tattered red and white robes. Multiple times he mistook another child and curtly apologised to their caretakers. His steps grew heavy as the sun rose higher to signify mid-day. WangJi’s began to walk down a side street when he heard commotion from the main street. Veering away from the side street, a seedling of hope began growing in his heart. He saw crowd of people gathered in a circle. Looking through the gaps, WangJi saw A-Yuan sitting down covered in dust with large tears fell down his face as he gripped tightly onto a stranger’s robe with all the force he could muster. WangJi’s eyes trailed towards a tall, young man whose robes were being held captive. His lips pursed with grief as he noticed the long black hair and black and red robes the stranger wore. A-Yuan’s grip had moved from grip onto the stranger’s bamboo flute with delight. The man’s silhouette, clothing and accessories all bore likeness to what Wei Ying had once worn, but perhaps it was because those dead and gone were remembered by their best traits, the stranger didn’t seem to have the noble yet mischievous bearing that Wei Ying once held.

Grief welled up in WangJi’s heart as he recognised what A-Yuan was searching for. He slid between he crowds as he picked A-Yuan up and slipped away. He could feel the crowd’s blaming gaze trailing him as he stepped away, but he didn’t stop. His steps only halted when he purchased a white robe for A-Yuan to change into. He looked down at A-Yuan with mixed emotions as he felt a tight grip on his heart. It wasn’t just him; this child was searching for Wei Ying just as he was. But…Wei Ying is no more. WangJi clutched onto A-Yuan as if he were his lifeline. In this lifetime, it wasn’t just he who had loved Wei Ying. Wei Ying had been loved. He hadn’t been abandoned. As many people had hated him, just as many loved him. A-Yuan had forgotten everything, but even then, had longed for Wei Ying’s presence. Wei Ying wouldn’t be forgotten. He hadn’t saved Wei Ying’s life, but he could stop at least this child from remembering Wei Ying as being an evil being.

A-Yuan witnessed the melancholy deeply embedded in WangJi’s face, heart and soul, but it was a pity he would never understand the depth of emotion that lay within that pained expression. WangJi ignored their stares as he hesitatingly pulled A-Yuan’s hand into his own. Gripping the small, chubby hand, he guided A-Yuan back to the lodge. With his emotions in turmoil, WangJi ushered A-Yuan into the room with his buns and began circulating spiritual energy. For the next four days, WangJi would go into town with A-Yuan to buy food and a few toys to occupy A-Yuan before returning to the room to recover. His wounds were still extremely severe and with every trip he made to town to buy necessities, his wounds only worsened. The circulating of spiritual energy gave WangJi some mild healing that he took advantage of. After the fourth day, he decided to begin the journey back to the GusuLan Sect. Given his injuries, his recovery would be better where the spiritual energy was better and over the course of the week, he had begun to miss the serenity of the GusuLan Sect. A-Yuan was a quiet child, but he was still a child. He was childish in his actions and regularly required WangJi's intervention before he was injured when completing simple tasks. He had managed to nearly scald himself on hot water that WangJi had left within reachable distance and fall out the window after climbing a chair in the last week alone. Perhaps it was the serenity of not needing to monitor a child that WangJi missed.

Despite his homesickness, when it came time to make the journey, a longing reluctance hung in WangJi’s eyes. The person he longed to see was no more, but this was the place he dwelled. He wanted it to remain standing, but it wasn’t his sect and the YiLing Patriarch was no longer in YiLing.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The trip from the GusuLan Sect to YiLing was no more than a week even with WangJi’s injuries; however, he found that travelling with a child was far less carefree. WangJi needed to ensure the A-Yuan was bathed, fed and put to bed each day and needed to organise a path that a child would be able to traverse. Usually, it wouldn’t have been a problem to fly with BiChen straight back to the GusuLan Sect, but given his injuries and travel companion, he didn’t expect to make it back for at least a week and a half. WangJi’s journey now required him to ensure that the travel was easy on the legs and eyes. Despite the inconvenience that A-Yuan brought to him, WangJi still watched A-Yuan with a mixture of grief and appreciation. Despite his even unchanging expression, mixed emotions were stirring in his heart. His only experience of parenting was recalling memories of his mother who had been gentle, but distant and Lan QiRen who had been extremely strict. He couldn’t conduct himself in the same manner that his mother or Lan QiRen had, so he could only maintain a lukewarm attitude to face A-Yuan. His eyes trailed after A-Yuan wherever he moved because through A-Yuan, he could see Wei Ying. At the end of the first night of their travels, WangJi had only made it half the distance he would have usually travelled without A-Yuan, but he didn’t feel frustrated in any sense. Instead, WangJi settled A-Yuan in a restaurant and ordered a few light dishes. When the dishes arrived, A-Yuan unmanneredly scarfed his food as if someone would snatch it.

Mid-way through his meal, A-Yuan felt a watchful eye on him. He raised his head to see his master glancing at him with a mildly disapproving gaze. A-Yuan’s eyes fell back down onto the bowl in his chubby hands and lifted up to see WangJi elegantly eating his meal with chopsticks. WangJi sat in a gracefully straight manner and ate with purposeful and efficient movements. His manners were impeccable to the degree that when A-Yuan and surrounding patrons watched WangJi eat, there was a sense of inferiority. Pursing his lips, A-Yuan attempted copying WangJi in both his posture and his behaviour. The result of which was that A-Yuan slipped from his chair and landed on the floor with a loud thud. A-Yuan persevered in the hopes that he wouldn’t have to face such a disapproving gaze again and eventually managed to finish his meal after spending an extra hour to practice his table manners.

WangJi looked briefly at the bowl A-Yuan left and lifted a finger to point, “Finish it.”

A-Yuan trailed WangJi’s gaze to look down at his bowl and found that WangJi was referring to the carrots and radishes left behind.

A-Yuan vehemently shook his head. Carrots and radishes sent a cold shiver down his back. He wouldn’t eat them!

WangJi didn’t force A-Yuan to eat them; however, his piercing gaze unwaveringly stayed on A-Yuan. A-Yuan could feel his back prickle and hair stand on end as he sat on his chair. Give up! He gives up! His master was too scary! Carrots were scary, but his master was scarier!

Scrunching his face, A-Yuan thrust a carrot into his mouth with distaste. He chewed as quickly as humanly possible and swallowed as quickly as he could. With one carrot gone, he flashed a smile to WangJi with a silent question, ‘Can we go yet?’

WangJi looked at A-Yuan’s pleading face and then down at the bowl before shifting back to A-Yuan’s face. A-Yuan felt like crying tears. He had to eat them all?

That night, A-Yuan was strangely forced to clear his bowl by power of WangJi’s piercing glances. This master of his didn’t talk much, but some how he could sense that he wouldn’t let him walk away without finishing the dish.

Only after A-Yuan had cleared his bowl did WangJi stand up without warning, leave the payment on the table and exit the restaurant with steady steps. He never turned around to make sure A-Yuan was following him, but he did listen for the patter of small footsteps that trailed behind him at a quick pace to keep up. WangJi’s shoulders relaxed when he felt a tug on his robe. Turning around, he faced A-Yuan whose watery eyes followed WangJi like a hawk.

“Don’t leave A-Yuan behind!” A-Yuan cried as he gripped WangJi’s robes even more tightly than before.

A-Yuan was scared. He was terrified. This master of his was really scary! He didn’t talk much at all and his gaze was sharp, but he still fed him and bathed him every night. He was scared, but his master was a good person!

WangJi considered A-Yuan’s words for a second before reaching a hand out to grasp A-Yuan’s hand in his own. He walked slowly to both lessen the pain from his injuries and allow A-Yuan to catch up with his large steps.

A-Yuan stumbled as he followed held WangJi’s hand and tried to keep pace with the slowed steps. He found that if his attention was caught for even a second, he would fall flat on his face. Naturally, he hadn’t found this out without personal experience. As WangJi and A-Yuan had been walking, A-Yuan saw some candy being sold by the vendor and had his attention snatched by the sweets for only a moment. In the single moment, A-Yuan had gloriously faceplanted with the grace that only someone in Gusu robes could manage.

WangJi’s expression didn’t change as he felt a strong tug on his sleeve and turned around to see A-Yuan fly forwards in a circular arc and land face first in the dirt. He kneeled down next to the child and offered a cloth, but no words of comfort.

Despite his throbbing nose and dusty face, he still stared longingly at the candied hawthorn and made contact with the vendor who had a smaller wider than his whole arm plastered on his face. 

WangJi followed A-Yuan’s gaze to the vendor. A-Yuan pulled his robes as he stood up but missed the grime that covered his face. When he had satisfactorily put himself into order again, A-Yuan looked up to find his master standing beside him holding a stick of candied loquats. A-Yuan’s eyes widened to the size of plates as he looked at the candied loquats in WangJi’s hands. He didn’t utter a word because his master was really too scary, but even bystander could see how much A-Yuan wanted the candy. Unfortunately, WangJi was more focused on the grime that had coated A-Yuan’s face to the point his skin was a shade darker and was thus unwilling to hand over the candy until A-Yuan was clean again. WangJi gripped the cloth and vigorously wiped A-Yuan’s hands and face until he was satisfied that the child was at least clean enough to eat the candied loquats in his grasp. He passed the candy over the chubby child and watched as A-Yuan struggled to chew hardened sugar coating.

The lulling scent of loquats carried a hint of nostalgia when mixed with the scent of sandalwood.


	17. Chapter 17

Whilst walking back to the inn, A-Yuan halted his steps again. This time, A-Yuan was wise enough to tug WangJi’s sleeve prior to stopping to prevent himself from being sent flying to the floor again. WangJi turned to see what had caught A-Yuan’s attention and found that he was staring incessantly at pair set of butterfly toys. He recognised these as being similar to those he’d once bought for A-Yuan in YiLing but were slightly different in colouring. One butterfly was painted red that transitioned into purple in the centre. The other was a blue butterfly that was painted light grey in the centre. The butterflies were striking in appearance and attached to a third component that was carved into the appearance of a magnolia flower which acted as a carrier for the toys. In all honesty, calling the butterflies ‘toys’ was not accurate; each component was sculpted to a degree that it was more an ornament than a toy, but it would be turned into a toy when it was placed in A-Yuan’s hands. A-Yuan eyed the toys gleefully. WangJi didn’t hesitate. He purchased the toy and handed it over to A-Yuan. In the dull lantern glow, WangJi could make out the gleeful joy that sparkled in A-Yuan’s eyes. He felt his heart tighten as he watched A-Yuan play with the toy. Even if A-Yuan had forgotten all his memories, he still had the innate sense of knowing what he liked, but his innate inclination set WangJi in a sombre mood as memories that he longed to store away resurfaced.

A-Yuan toddled forwards in clumsy, small steps as he held the butterflies together as he enacted a little play between his two butterflies and their magnolia home. WangJi guided A-Yuan back to the inn with a reflective expression. The night passed quietly much to WangJi’s relief. A-Yuan had settled easily and quickly once he had played enough with his toy and had settled quickly from exhaustion.

WangJi woke up well before A-Yuan did the next morning. He quietly left the inn to go downstairs to purchase breakfast before returning to the room to find A-Yuan tumbling around the room anxiously searching for him.

When A-Yuan laid eyes upon WangJi as he returned, he acted as though he hadn’t seen WangJi in ten years and rushed up to him while swinging his chubby arms tightly around WangJi’s waist. WangJi sighed, he’d never met anyone as sticky as this child before. He gently pulled A-Yuan’s arms from his waist and passed over a steam bun to the child. A-Yuan had a reluctant glint in his eye as he bit into the bun with vengeance while maintain eye contact with his master. A-Yuan felt it only right; after all, he’d been left alone again.

Shortly after breakfast, WangJi and A-Yuan began the second day of the journey back to Gusu. WangJi had recovered somewhat over the night and managed to use BiChen to fly part of the way to the inn he intended to reside in for that day, however, he still needed to do a fair amount of walking that exhausted A-Yuan and caused pain to WangJi’s existing wounds. A-Yuan was simply so tired that night that he refused to wash up after eating dinner much to WangJi’s dismay. After less than a week of parenting, WangJi had his first experience of dealing with a tired and disobedient toddler. However, unlike most parents, WangJi held the privilege of being HanGuang-Jun. His gaze prickled A-Yuan’s back and caused the hair on the back of his neck to standing up to the point that A-Yuan dragged himself to do the bare minimum that could be considered as washed up. Long after A-Yuan had gone to bed, WangJi sat on the bed holding the butterfly sculptures he’d bought for A-Yuan to toy with. The intricate carving had been damaged from A-Yuan’s rough play over the last day; however, WangJi still held it tenderly with care as he brushed his fingers over each petal and wing. The cool wood beneath his fingers made him recall the last time he’d seen A-Yuan playing with butterflies. Wei Ying had been laughing beside him in a restaurant eating a meal he’d promised to pay but hadn’t. A-Yuan had been on the ground playing with two butterflies and ‘I like you’ as he pushed the two toys together. The lasting memory led a conflicted smile to surface on WangJi’s face. He placed both butterflies back in the magnolia carrier and left the set beside A-Yuan again. The reminiscent smile faded back to an expressionless mask he wore. WangJi reached into his robe and found the YunmengJiang Sect bell. Grasping the bell tightly within his hand, he descended into lotus position on the bed to meditate. The bell acted as a rock that kept him from straying from concentration. The night passed in a quiet fashion even as WangJi awoke from meditation and went to sleep.

The next morning, A-Yuan rose before his master could abandon him to buy breakfast again. A-Yuan rushed to clean himself up in the morning so that he would be able to follow WangJi out. Seeing as A-Yuan sorted himself out quickly, WangJi waited for a few minutes until A-Yuan was done to walk out the inn. Neither of them had brought any baggage and were not held back by the prospect of needing to bring miscellaneous, so WangJi began the journey straight after breakfast.

Over the day, WangJi learnt how precious silence was. As with every child, A-Yuan was curious. He had very little memory and very little recollection of his time with the Wen clan people. A-Yuan was even more so unable to recall the elder brother who had looked after him for a short amount of time.

WangJi really didn’t know how to answer A-Yuan when he asked, “Where are my parents?” or “Why am I with master?”

The GusuLan Sect forbade lying, hence WangJI could only remain silent regarding the questions with sensitive answers. He listened to A-Yuan’s questions until his ears began to grate and proceeded to take slightly longer strides with each question that A-Yuan asked. After the eighty-third question, A-Yuan was running after his master. He had no energy to speak let alone ask questions and hear answers. By the end of the day, A-Yuan was not even able to make it to the bed before he collapsed from tiredness mid-way through bathing himself.

It happened that WangjI also learnt this night that children, unlike cultivators, were particularly unable to hold their breaths. Naturally, WangJi only found this out when he curiously saw A-Yuan slip underwater from fatigue and begin coughing after staying underwater for a half a minute. He also watched A-Yuan fall asleep in the water a second time and splutter himself awake a second time before finally removing the child to the bed before he could choke on water the third time. WangJi was puzzled. Children were difficult to raise.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

“Where are we going?” A-Yuan asked WangJi.

Only when they were half way through their journey did A-Yuan finally remember to ask WangJi where exactly they were going.

“Gusu,” WangJi replied swiftly.

“Gusu? Where’s that? What are we doing there? Why are we going?” A-Yuan spun enough question to make a person dizzy.

“GusuLan Sect.”

A-Yuan cocked his head to the side. The notion of sects was beyond him, but he’d learnt from his last few travel days that his master was a character of few words and trying to wrestle out more than five words was a mere impossibility.

A-Yuan dropped his questions and continued on with his small steps. He trailed behind WangJi towards the direction of Gusu. He’d asked many questions over the last few days, however, there was one question that he had been too afraid to ask thus far. His master always walked purposefully. Every movement, every stride and every action had a meaning, but his master always carried around a Guqin behind him that didn’t seem to serve any purpose on this journey. He had yet to see the strings be plucked nor any music be made from those strings, yet it seemed fitting that his master was dressed completely in white and carried an elegantly matching Guqin with cloud insignias embossed on the surface. Given his master’s nature, there was definitely a reason that he carried around the instrument and there was no doubt that his master played it well, he just couldn’t understand why his master never used the instrument.

As he continued to wander after his master, his curiosity peaked, but he kept his mouth shut. WangJi continued to push himself to walk further until the time came for lunch. Unfortunately, at this juncture of their journey, there was no town nearby. The next town was still a fair distance and he couldn’t ignore A-Yuan’s stomach that growled louder than any beast in the vicinty. A-Yuan’s face had turned bright red from embarrassment as he guiltily looked up at WangJi.

WangJi stopped at the precise second midday struck and turned around to see A-Yuan dragging his feet with sloppy posture. His eyes turned sharp upon seeing poor posture. As if sensing the strict gaze, A-Yuan’s eye line met WangJi’s and instantly stood straight as a pole; even the hair at the back of his neck was standing to attention. That oppressive gaze was truly a good at ‘encouraging’ good posture.

“Firewood,” WangJi said as he pointed to A-Yuan.

After saying his piece, WangJi left the area he’d designated for lunch. A-Yuan stood confused for a few minutes twiddling his thumbs as he comforted his hungry stomach with pleasant but unfulfilling words.

“I’ll feed you soon,” A-Yuan tearfully advised his tummy.

The path that master and disciple had walked was relatively clear, but when he veered a few steps off the path into the vegetation, he found a good area away from the path that had lots of firewood. His little hands reached out to the dry branches that carpeted the forest floor. One by one, he pulled thin, manageable branches into a pile. As he was gathering dry branches, he yanked his hand back sharply as he felt a splinter in his fingers. A-Yuan plopped down on a log as he looked pitifully at the offending hand. He felt his lips tremble as tears began to well in his eyes. The first tear threatened to fall when A-Yuan took a deep breath in and out. He sniffled and attempted to retract the tears that had gathered in his eyes before they fell.

‘ _He was a big boy. He was his master’s disciple! He couldn’t cry over a splinter!’_

A-Yuan sniffled as he pulled himself together. He marched as he gripped the offending tree branch and ruthlessly stepped on it with all the force he could muster. Unfortunately, at three years old, A-Yuan didn’t have the weight to crush branch underfoot. Instead, the branch flicked backwards and whipped him straight across the forehead.

“…Ouch!”

When WangJi returned, he found A-Yuan with a constipated expression trying desperately to hold tears and snot in. He noted the injury across his forehead and sighed as he looked down at the pile of broken branches. He could roughly assess what had happened and couldn’t decide whether or not to condemn the child. In the end, WangJI decided that the injury was punishment enough, he assembled the branches and started a fire.

When A-Yuan finally cleared his face enough to look at what his master was doing, he found his master had returned with numerous vegetables and a chicken. Looking at his master’s pristine clothes that didn’t so much as have a crease in them, he wasn’t sure where the chicken had come from, but it had been plucked and cleaned already. WangJi elegantly sat down on the large branch and used spiritual energy to start a fire.

As A-Yuan was recovering from his ordeal, he found that WangJi quickly tossed the vegetables inside the chicken and used thick branches to hold the chicken over the fire to roast it. When A-Yuan finally finished nursing his aching head, he took a look at the chicken and black lines covered his face.

“Master, the chicken is burning.”

WangJi opened his eyes to find that, indeed, the chicken was charred black on one side. Naturally, as someone who’d never so much as made rice in his life, he had no idea that roasting meat included having to rotate it. He stared at the half burnt, half raw chicken in confusion. In the end, he set down the chicken to face the other side and went back to meditating; this left A-Yuan to mind the fort and keep an eye on the chicken. A-Yuan fumbled around with the chicken as best he could until it looked edible.

“Master,” A-Yuan called with tears of blame almost spilling from his eyes.

WangJi opened his eyes, “Hm?”

“I think it’s ready?”

WangJi looked at the half black and white chicken that looked more checkerboard than chicken and grimaced.

“Do we have to eat this?” A-Yuan asked.

“Mn. Don’t waste food,” WangJi replied.

The two ate in silence for not other reason than there were no compliments they could fathom that would accurately describe this dish that’s only seasoning was ‘charcoal’. 

A-Yuan asked nervously, “Do we have to finish it.”

WangJi gently placed his portion down in response.

Unsatisfied with lunch, master and disciple began their journey again in search of the nearest town and edible food.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19:

Time was kind to WangJi and A-Yuan. Despite the hiccups and trial-and-error parenting, WangJi and A-Yuan were able to cross the boundary towards Gusu in just over a week. As WangJi came to the border of Gusu, his gaze lingered in the direction of the sect.

A-Yuan who had become accustomed to his master’s silence and decisive nature within the week looked up at WangJi with a puzzled expression. His master wasn’t one to hesitate, but he could feel that he was hesitant about something.

A-Yuan reached out and gripped WangJi’s sleeve with a concerned, questioning look on his face. WangJi’s lips tightened into a fine line as he held A-Yuan’s hand and pulled him away from the path going towards the GusuLan Sect. A-Yuan confusedly allowed himself to be dragged wherever his master was going. Had his master not been insistent on going back to the sect? Where were they going now?

A-Yuan took fast steps to keep up with WangJi as they walked on a divergent path. He stayed two steps behind his master as to not impede his clear focus. He followed him down a winding path with forests on either side. The lush forest was different from the coarse vegetation he’d seen in YiLing, but his master didn’t seem to be interested in the beauty of nature surrounding him.

WangJi walked for a few minutes until he neared his destination. A-Yuan’s eyes lit up as he heard the sound of flowing water. As WangJi stepped past the final bend, a long winding river extended all the way to the horizon trickling slowly as it reflected the afternoon soon to light up the forest. The water flowed slowly as if it were a stream and the clear depths laid bare all the creatures and plants that dwelled within. A-Yuan’s eye widened as he took in the sheer beauty of the landscape in front of him. He lost of all thoughts of questioning his master and ran towards the river.

WangJi didn’t hold the same level of enthusiasm as A-Yuan did as he approached the riverbed. He looked at the clear water with conflicting emotions as he tried to quell the raging emotions that crashed like waves in the depths of his eyes. The nostalgic pain that had faded since caring for A-Yuan came crashing upon him again when he was faced with the reality of his situation. He kneeled down on the hard rocks and slowly drew the guqin from his back. Fingers gliding over the smooth, wooden surface, WangJi thought of all the things he wanted to ask.

His body still as he concentrated. His thoughts were scattered as the questions that he longed to ask were overflowing with no answers to stem the curb. WangJi pursed his lips as he experimentally plucked a string. The deep, resounding note echoed and reverberated as if the very forest was listening to his questions. Taking in a deep breath, WangJi turned all his focus on playing. Gentle, smooth notes flowed from the guqin like the lull of the river. The melody drifted and hung in the air until the final note of the question was played.

WangJi waited for an answer. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he picked the question that he longed to hear the answer most too.

‘ _Wei Ying, are you there?’_

Even when the water rippled with the tune, deathly stillness was all that responded to him.

WangJi’s heart dropped as he asked again.

‘ _Wei Ying, are you there?’_

Heart wrenching in pain, WangJi could sense that he would not receive answers for any of his other questions. However, even if he received no answer, he asked his questions knowing that the answer he longed for would never come. 

_‘Wei Ying, are you in pain?’_

_‘Are you wondering alone in this world?’_

_‘Are you safe?’_

_‘Are you lonely?’_

_“Do you remember me?’_

_‘If I had let us both perish the night of the massacre, would you still be here?’_

_‘Why have you left so far away?’_

_‘A-Yuan misses you.’_

_‘I miss you, Wei Ying.’_

_‘Those you’ve left behind, I will protect them.’_

_‘I hope you’re happy.’_

_‘I will long for you forever. If you return, I will be beside you forevermore.’_

_‘Wei Ying, I love you.’_

When A-Yuan saw WangJi rest the guqin on his lap, his eyes widened in surprise. His master had yet to so much as play a single note on the entirety of the journey to Gusu, so why had he picked an empty riverbend to play? He sat down on a large rock facing his master as he watched WangJi begin plucking strings. When A-Yuan listened to the first notes being plucked, he cocked his head, his master’s playing was chaotic; it was as if he was fighting a battle. The notes were gentle, but tense and held tension when it was played as if WangJi were anxious. Slowly, as WangJi played some more, the music began to lull and sway. When WangJi asked his first question, A-Yuan saw the lake ripple and tendrils of spiritual energy spill from his master. The tendrils for spiritual energy seemed to probe the air as if they were searching. A-Yuan couldn’t understand the complexities that ‘Inquiry’ contained, however, he could sense that his master was seeking answers through this song. A-Yuan could feel his master’s grief ebbing into his heart through the song. He could sense the deep longing emotions that transmitted through each note and the importance it carried to WangJi. The song was an embodiment of his master’s emotions for someone who was no longer living. A-Yuan could feel tears welling in his eyes as he listened to the grief and longing. He wanted to rush to his master and give him some warmth, but when his saw his master’s expression, that was usually one of indifference, follow the tendrils into the sky with a heartbroken expression, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt his master’s reminiscence. He listened to the song with every corner of his heart as tears rolled down his eyes. This song, the questions he could hear, but not quite place, he felt like he had also lost something very dear to him. He clasped his hands together as he listened; somewhere in his young mind, he knew he’d lost many people who had been precious to him.

Let this song be their send off. Those who’d loved him and those who he’d once known and loved, let this song send them off with the same grace and longing that his master held for the one he played for.


	20. Chapter 20

WangJi played the final notes to ‘Inquiry’ with a downturned heart. All the questions he’d asked remained answerless. The reality reduced his hopes and desires into nothing more than fantasies. A crushing sense of loss enveloped WangJi as he stood by the riverbend. WangJi was uncertain, his heart and mind were lost in grief that burdened him. What was he to do now? He had no goal and no direction, but in spite of his anguish, he could only live on. The rules of the GusuLan sect seemed insignificant now when they had only even obstructed him from interacting with Wei Ying. However, despite the lack of answers and sorrowful hurt, he felt a sense of relief. He couldn’t see Wei Ying anymore, but if that was the price he had to pay to know that Wei Ying was not walking the earth as a trapped spirit, he could be relieved that Wei Ying had not carried his grievances to the grave.

WangJi stood up clasping his hands together and bowed towards the river.

‘ _May your journey be safe, Wei Ying.’_

WangJi stood in silence as he stared into the sky with an expression of longing. His hands firmly grasped the guqin as if it were a steadying force. The tendrils of spiritual energy surrounding him began to fade as his body swayed.

“Master!” A-Yuan yelled as he saw WangJi sway dangerously and fall to the ground with a pained expression.

“What happened?” A-Yuan cried as he rushed to WangJi’s side scanning him over for injuries.

WangJi replied with certainty, “Spiritual energy.”

Ignoring A-Yuan, WangJi sat in lotus position as he gathered spiritual energy. The injuries on his back pulsed and sent a chilling pain throughout his body. He attempted to calm his mind to gather spiritual energy.

A-Yuan kept a close eye on his master as he watched him meditate. He pulled out a steamed bun and some candy that was left over from the previous day and bundled them up in a large leaf that he placed on WangJi’s lap for when he woke up.

A-Yuan waited for WangJi to wake for a few hours. He knew his master was injured; however, the situation was still worrying. His stomach grumbled as he twiddled his fingers together trying to stop them from reaching for the packaged he’d left for his master. His little hands reached out once again before clenching into fists and were withdrawn into his own lap again.

After a few more hours, A-Yuan stood up and toddled to find some food. He couldn’t touch his master’s food, and he couldn’t wander to far away, but by a river, there was bound to be food. Waddling around, A-Yuan managed to find some berries and plants that he instinctively felt were edible. There was a particular familiarity with these plants that he couldn’t quite place, however, he trusted his instinct and pulled a few berries and plants.

When WangJi finally opened his eyes again, the sky had turned dark and directly in front of his sat A-Yuan who pitifully picked at some berries and leaves. He stared down as he noticed a weight in his lap and found a package of food.

“Master is injured. You need to eat,” A-Yuan scolded childishly.

WangJi could stop a slight smile from rising on his lips as he unravelled the package of leaves to reveal the steamed buns and candy that had long gone cold from the harsh treatment and cold river winds. WangJi felt the grief in his heart fade slightly when he looked into A-Yuan warm eyes. He picked up a steamed bun, ripped it apart and handed a half to his young disciple.

“Eat.”

A-Yuan wasn’t polite; he scarfed down his portion and looked at WangJi with eyes that were secretly pleading. WangJi silently handed over the candy as he bit into the cold steamed bun.

‘ _We’ll be ok, Wei Ying. I will look after A-Yuan until you return.’_

The gentle drifting winds blew through the trees as the trees swayed playfully. The dark night sky amplified the beauty of the scenery when the moon’s image reflected off the clear water dyed black by the lack of light. Watching A-Yuan eat so ravenously, WangJi suddenly felt a bit of guilt. A-Yuan was young, so there should be someone watching him all the time, but despite his age, he was mature. He hadn’t gotten into any trouble and was an obedient child. Next time, he would prepare food for A-Yuan before he entered meditation so that he did not need to resort to eating berries and leaves while waiting for him.

The wounds on WangJi’s back throbbed as struggled to maintain an indifferent expression. He slowly pulled himself up and walked effortfully to a nearby where he hastily sat down and motioned to A-Yuan. A-Yuan hurriedly toddled over to stand in front of WangJi curiously. WangJi pulled A-Yuan’s sleeve lightly. Noticing the signal, A-Yuan sat down next to his master.

“It’s too late to find an inn. Sleep.”

A-Yuan blinked. Sleep? By the riverbend? Against a scratchy tree trunk?

A-Yuan’s face twitched as he turned to look at his master to question him regarding their sleeping arrangement only to find that his master seemed to have already fallen asleep like a statue. A-Yuan rested his head back on the scratchy bark as he tried to fall asleep. After twisting and turning trying to find a comfortable position against a tree trunk, A-Yuan had had enough and sat upright frustratedly as he glared menacingly at the offending tree. A bright idea popped into his head as his gaze shifted to his master. A cheeky smile crossed his smile as he gave up on leaning against the tree and simply leaned against his master. His master’s arm was deceivingly solid but was infinitely more comfortable than the bark. As he drifted off, the faint scent of sandalwood enveloped him as a faint memory of another who had the same scent drifted into his mind.


	21. Chapter 21

Come morning, A-Yuan learnt to regret very quickly when WangJi stood up at the crack of dawn without assessing the situation. The sudden jolt sent A-Yuan tumbling to the floor with a thud. WangJi looked down to see A-Yuan pitifully looking at him with grievance in his eyes. Guilt slowly pricked at his consciousness as he helped A-Yuan up and pat the dust off their robes.

Quite evidently, A-Yuan felt that he hadn’t slept enough as leaned against the tree with eyes teary from constant yawning.

“Disciples of the GusuLan Sect sleep at 9 and rise at 5,” WangJi stated as he motioned for A-Yuan to follow.

A-Yuan despairingly gave up his resting spot against the tree as he followed WangJi on the day’s journey again. The wounds crisscrossing WangJi’s back burned the further away from the river he walked. He looked back to river that flowed gently towards the sea for any hope that Wei Ying may have returned, but only the crisp cool morning wind greeted him.

Being faced with silence made WangJi feel as though Wei Ying had died a second death. He forcefully turned forwards and continued his journey back to the GusuLan sect. A-Yuan watched as his master forced himself to take step after painful step with his brows furrowed and expression grave. They walked in silence with slow steps.

Master and disciple retraced their steps until their reached the point that they were yesterday and began heading in the direction of Gusu. They were not far from Gusu, but given that A-Yuan was young and WangJi was injured, the journey took another two days before they were finally able to see the city.

A-Yuan’s eyes grew large as saucers as he saw the beautifully peaceful scenery that Gusu was famous for. He passed by many stores gripping his butterfly toys and found another set of butterflies equally as well-crafted as his own. Eyes sparkling, A-Yuan turned to look at his master with pleading eyes again.

WangJi looked at the butterfly toy painted purple and blue and promptly shook his head, “Those from the GusuLan Sect do not desire worldly possessions.”

A-Yuan accepted the response dejectedly as he continued onwards. WangJi walked beside A-Yuan with great difficulty. His wounds had reopened when he was by the river and walking each step was more painful than the last; however, as to not alarm A-Yuan, he continued onwards with a steady pace. He was pushing his body further than what it would allow, but he had a responsibility to complete. The pain was worsened whenever his robes rubbed against his back. The blood had already soaked through a few layers of his robes; however, GusuLan Sect robes were thick, and blood was hard to notice, so A-Yuan had not perceived how much pain his master was in.

Despite the pain, WangJi pulled A-Yuan to a stop when he found a shop selling an item that resurfaced many memories both good and bad.

“Master, why’re you buying that?”

“…Mn”

WangJi dodged the question as he walked away from the store carrying his purchase.

A-Yuan looked at the dramatic mismatch between his master and his master’s purchase with curiosity but didn’t question further as he pondered. His thoughts were easily overwhelmed as WangJi led him through the city towards an area that lay away from the city centre.

“What’s that?” A-Yuan asked as he pointed towards the looming structure that stood on a lonely mountain.

“Cloud Recess, where members of the GusuLan Sect reside,” WangJi answered.

A-Yuan’s expression of shock grew as he approached Cloud Recess. The buildings were enveloped in mist as if the entirety of the structure floated atop clouds like those from the legends of immortal realms.

Outside the stricture was a large wall with thousands of commands painstakingly transcribed by hand. A-Yuan was able to read the transcriptions as he got closer to the wall.

“Do not kill within Cloud Recesses. Do not fight without permission. Do not commit acts of promiscuity, do not go out at night. Do not make noise, do not walk too fast. Do not laugh for no reason. Do not sit with a disgraceful pose. Do not eat more than 3 bowls. Master…why are there so many rules? There must be thousands.”

“Three thousand. The GusuLan Sect is strict.”

“Master…in the second line. What’s promiscuity?”

WangJi’s ears grew red as he considered the correct method of answering A-Yuan’s question.

“…You-” WangJi stared.

“Lan Zhan, you’re back!” a voice called.

WangJi turned to see his brother approaching him with a relieved smile.

“Brother,” WangJi greeted as he hid his purchase amongst the layers of his robe.

Lan XiChen turned to A-Yuan curiously as he asked, “Who is this?”

“A-Yuan!” A-Yuan called.

“Lan Yuan,” WangJi replied.

XiChen eyes focused on WangJi as he carefully worded his next question, “Is he named Lan, or did you name him Lan?”

WangJi didn’t make a move to answer as his eyes shifted to A-Yuan. XiChen understood the silent answer.

“Which clan?”

“Wen.”

XiChen sighed, “How are you going to explain to young uncle?”

“New disciple.”

“WangJi, raising a child is a heavy responsibility; it is not something that should be done at random.”

WangJi simply raised his hand and placed it over A-Yuan’s head. He had already accepted A-Yuan as his disciple so he would not abandon him.

XiChen sighed as he lowered himself to A-Yuan’s level, “Lan Yuan, did you want to join the GusuLan Sect?”

A-Yuan nodded profusely, “Master is here, so A-Yuan should be here too.”

XiChen smiled as he nodded, “Good answer.”

XiChen led A-Yuan into the sprawling Cloud Recess as he quietly and gently guided the child around the sect until they reached the living quarters for sect juniors. 

“This is where you’ll live from now on, Lan Yuan. We’ll organise a uniform for you, so go and freshen up for now,” XiChen smiled.

A-Yuan stepped forwards and looked back at WangJi with a look of uncertainty. His fear was evident in his nervousness. He took small steps towards the living quarters that became more confident the further he toddled. However, as he reached the threshold his leg hovered in mid-air as he turned around to look at WangJi with short, panicky breaths.

XiChen waved his hands in an urging motion in encouragement. WangJi nodded. Finally, left without another option, A-Yuan stepped into the living quarters. It was only after A-Yuan was out of view that XiChen was able to ask the questions he’d held back.

“Whose child is he?”

“Wei Ying raised him.”

“And the rest of his family?”

“YunmengJiang Sect head left none standing.”

“I will not explain this to your uncle. I won’t stop you if you intend to raise him; however, no one is to know of his past.”

“Mn.”

“But WangJi, raising the child that the YiLing Patriarch raised won’t bring him back.”

XiChen’s statement stabbed WangJi’s heart. This was the statement he didn’t want to hear.

“Not raising to bring Wei Ying back.”

“You cannot have another YiLing Patriarch through that child. He is another person. He is not the same person.”

“No one can replace Wei Ying.”

WangJi’s face dropped as he listened to his brother speak. He had never intended for there to be another Wei Ying. He hadn’t wanted to relive his memories through A-Yuan. He had simply wanted the last traces of Wei Ying to prosper and live happily.

“Why did you come back with a child? Why didn’t you leave the child with a family in YiLing and come back with Wei WuXian’s ashes? You are so young. How will you raise a child?”

“There was nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“The Burial Mounds were destroyed. There were no bodies, just mass grave markers. No one left offerings. Wei Ying’s body was destroyed with no grave or tomb. This child was all that remained hidden in the roots of a tree.”

A wave of pity surged through XiChen as he realised the tragedy that his younger brother had seen. He had gone to visit his deceased beloved and found neither body nor soul except for the child that his beloved had raised. His brows furrowed as he sighed and walked away to organise Lan Yuan’s admittance.

Thinking for a while, XiChen turned, “What is Lan Yuan’s courtesy name?”

WangJi was silent for a few moments before uttering, “Lan SiZhui.”

“SiZhui, to reminisce and long, what a fitting name.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I lost all of chapter 24...sorry. Delay in the next chapter until I can repair the damage TT^TT

It was only when his brother had left that WangJi stumbled to lean against a tree to stabilise himself. The injuries he’d reopened caused searing pain that caused sweat to gather at his forehead. He stayed against the tree until A-Yuan came rushing out excitedly exclaiming the wonders he’d seen within the living quarters.

“Master! Master! I’ll be living here in the future? It’s amazing!” A-Yuan cried.

A-Yuan’s loud cry grated WangJi’s ears as he focused on staying upright, “Disciples of the GusuLan Sect do not run and shout.”

A-Yuan quickly clamped a hand over his mouth as he recalled seeing the sign outside the sect covered in thousands of inscriptions. He looked up at WangJi guilty and noticed his master’s pale complexion and beads of sweat.

“Master, are you ok?” A-Yuan asked.

WangJi felt himself slip slightly from the branch and staggered forwards to press a hand heavily against the tree.

“Master!”

A-Yuan pulled WangJi’s sleeve as he guided WangJi to sit against the trunk.

“Master? Master!” A-Yuan cried.

Noticing his master wasn’t responding to his calls, he ensured that WangJi was safe and turned around to search for help. He didn’t need to go far XiChen was returning with QiRen following closely behind him.

“Lan Yuan?” XiChen called.

A-Yuan’s panicked face filled with tears as he recognised XiChen and ran towards him.

“Master! Master isn’t feeling well!” A-Yuan cried as he puffed from exertion.

XiChen turned to QiRen, “Uncle, I need to check on Lan Zhan, can you take care of Lan Yuan.”

QiRen nodded seriously as he walked towards A-Yuan to usher him away. XiChen immediately proceeded to take a look at WangJi and found him leaning weakly against the tree. He swung WangJi’s arm around him as he flew back to his brother’s living quarters and put him on the bed.

XiChen unhesitatingly removed his brother’s robes to observe the whips on his backs to find the wounds that had begun to heal when WangJi left, had reopened and were showing signs of infection. XiChen sighed as he rubbed his temples as he called for a physician.

The physician arrived promptly and began to look over WangJi. As the physician was removing the top half of the GusuLan Sect robes, a loud thump sounded. XiChen turned to see what had fallen to the floor to find a jar of Tianzixiao (Emperor’s Smile) resting on the ground. Compared to the plain and simple interior of the room, the brown jar with an ostentatiously red cover was particularly eye catching. Additionally, with the large characters sprawled across the paper label, there was no hiding the fact that WangJi had not only bought the liquor, but also brought it within the sect which was against the rules.

XiChen picked up the bottle of Tianzixiao with a pitying expression. He shook his head with a sigh as he placed the jar inconspicuously in the corner of the room. He waited outside as the physician treated WangJi. As he stood by the door, Lan QiRen hurriedly walked towards him.

“Is WangJi ok?” QiRen asked.

XiChen nodded, “He seems to be fine. His wounds reopened and are infected, but he has pushed himself too far on this journey. His spiritual energy has been completed depleted and his cultivation base seems to have been damaged. A long recovery is expected.”

A sigh emerged from QiRen’s lips as he scolded his WangJi in his heart.

“That child…” QiRen started.

“That child’s name is Wen Yuan. He is the last remaining descendent of the Wen clan. The YiLing Patriarch was raising him before he died. Lan Zhan adopted him and has given the name Lan SiZhui,” XiChen quietly stated.

Watching signs of anger surface on QiRen’s face, XiChen quietly stated, “Uncle. I think WangJi has suffered enough.”

QiRen furrowed brows, “He brought back a child of the Wen Clan to be raised by the Lan Clan without consulting any elders. This matter cannot be easily solved or forgotten.”

“WangJi may hold resentment towards you if you reject his disciple. You also saw it too. WangJi was willing to take thirty-three lashes of the discipline whip in exchange to save the YiLing Patriarch. Wei WuXian holds no mere small part of his heart. That child is all that remains, as long as his origins are hidden, there shouldn’t be a problem raising him in the GusuLan Sect.”

“WangJi has no experience raising children.”

“He managed to return from the Burial Mounts with the child and those wounds on his back. Even if he has no capabilities in child-rearing, it appears that the child is quite obedient. We have other children in the GusuLan Sect, so it should be no issue being Lan Yuan in.”

XiChen’s words left QiRen unable to refute as he begrudgingly accepted his nephew’s words.

“Sect Leader Lan,” the physician called.

XiChen walked to the physician’s side as he asked, “How is my brother?”

“His condition has deteriorated since I last reviewed him. He has stabilised and should regain consciousness eventually. When he wakes up, he will need to meditate to regain his spiritual energy. The whip lashes on his back will take a few years to heal; however, he currently has a fever and will be unconscious for some time while his body uses the last bit of spiritual energy to heal his body.”

XiChen sighed a breath of relief as he heard the doctor’s words. As long as his brother’s condition was stable and recovery was a certainty rather than a possibility, he was satisfied. His could still feel some discomfort in acknowledging the child that his brother had brought back, but in spite of the grievances his sect had with the Wen clan, the child was innocent. It seemed that if he harmed the child or refused to bestow the Lan name to him, his brother would not be forgiving.

After personally checking WangJi’s condition, XiChen left WangJi’s room to check on the new disciple of the GusuLan Sect.


	23. Chapter 23

“Mn. The uniform suits you well,” Lan XiChen nodded as he looked at the little toddler wearing the blue and white uniform.

The fabric spilled around A-Yuan like an ill-fitting wedding dress and swept that floor as he attempted to move. Multiple times already, he’d already kissed the floor trying to simply get to a mirror.

“Ahhh…mister. I think it’s a bit too long,” A-Yuan complained.

“My name is Lan XiChen. At the sect, most people call me Zewu-Jun, SiZhui,” XiChen smiled.

“Zewu-Jun, A-Yuan’s name is Lan Yuan not SiZhui,” A-Yuan said.

“A-Yuan is smart. Your master gave you a courtesy name, so you should refer to yourself by this name from now on. Lan Yuan is your personal name. It’s a name that only people who are important will know. You master is known as Hanguang-Jun to juniors of the sect or outsiders to the sect. Those who call him by his courtesy name, Lan WangJi are close to him or related to him. At the moment, only I call him by his personal name, Lan Zhan. So remember, A-Yuan, your name is Lan ZiShui and only those close to you will know you as Lan Yuan.”

A-Yuan nodded in understanding as he asked, “Does that mean that A-Yuan needs to call master Hanguang-Jun from now on?”

XiChen pondered for a moment before answering, “Yes. As your master and senior, you should call him Hanguang-Jun.”

“Zewu-Jun…I think the uniform is too big.”

“Mm, SiZhui, you should call me sect head while we’re in the sect ok? Zewu-Jun is what people outside the sect call me.”

“Sect head…the uniform.”

“We don’t usually have disciples as little as you are. I’ll ask someone to tailor it to fit you better ok?”

A-Yuan’s head bobbed up and down as he nodded.

Left without another option, A-Yuan wore the plain white robes that WangJi had bought for him on their journey.

Seeing the robe reminded him of his master, so he turned to XiChen as he asked, “Zewu-Jun, where is Hanguang-Jun?”

“WangJi is rest in his room at the moment. He has an injury, so he won’t be able to see you for a while.”

“Is he ok?”

“Mm. He’s ok at the moment. SiZhui, I’ll guide you around the sect ok?”

XiChen motioned for SiZhui to follow as he guided the toddler around the sect.

“This is where you’ll train in the future. The sect juniors are already studying. You’re a little bit too young to study with them right not, but you can go and take a look,” XiChen ushered with a smile.

SiZhui looked cautiously at XiChen then back at the courtyard. He pulled the door enough to form a small opening and peeked in. Within sat rows of youths listening intently to a senior amidst a lecture. Brushes silently swept across the paper as the pressure of the room crashed onto SiZhui.

SiZhui had heard all of one sentence from the lecture and already his head was spinning. The complexities of the GusuLan teachings were too much for someone like SiZhui who, at only three, had entered the GusuLan Sect with no foundational knowledge of cultivation or spiritual energy.

SiZhui quickly reversed out of the classroom with a disapproving face. His expression alone was enough for XiChen to decipher SiZhui’s troubled.

XiChen laughed, “Alright, I’ll take you to your master’s courtyard.”

The change was almost immediate in SiZhui’s expression. Nearing the courtyard, SiZhui couldn’t help but notice the increase in flora and fauna in the surroundings.

“Sect head, why are there so many rabbits?” SiZhui asked.

A peculiar expression crossed XiChen’s face as answered, “Your master likes rabbits. WangJi likes to keep them as pet, but he’s not well at the moment. Can I trust you to look after the rabbits?”

SiZhui nodded his head instantaneously as he proclaimed with a faux aura of reliability, “A-Yuan will look after the rabbits!”

“There are so many rabbits, I wonder if there are any baby ones?”

XiChen’s smile twitched as he stated, “All of the rabbits are male.”

“Oh, so there’ll be little brothers,” SiZhui exclaimed.

The twitch in XiChen’s smile didn’t go away for a few minutes. 

“This is your master’s room. He’s resting inside and it may be some time before he wakes up, but from now on you’ll be taking care of the garden and the rabbits. You can call your seniors if you need help, ok? My courtyard is over there, so just come over if you need help. Ok?” XiChen explained.

SiZhui nodded as he ran over to WangJi’s door. XiChen hesitated for a few moments before leaving the child to his own devices. He also didn’t want to leave the child on his own, but SiZhui seemed cautious to those he didn’t known and introducing him to individual members of the sect would seem like he was showing favouritism to a certain disciple against sect rules. There was also the matter of SiZhui’s background. If he introduced everyone to SiZhui, he would then need to explain why a disciple as young as three years old could be accepted into the sect. If he let the child roam, perhaps he would be questioned, but as long as he told the sect seniors that the child was an orphan adopted by WangJi, he would be able to bypass prying eyes. However, while he was unable to personally intervene, he could still monitor SiZhui’s situation while ensuring WangJi’s wellbeing.

Once left alone, SiZhui explored the sect on his own again starting from his master’s courtyard. The impeccably clean and orderly courtyard seemed to fit his master down to the sandal wood scent that seemed to drift exclusively around the courtyard. The scent was familiar for an odd reason he couldn’t quite place. There was always something that seemed to be missing.


	24. Chapter 24

Lan ZiShui began his routine of waking at five and rest by nine. He was a dedicated child who quickly grasped the basic rules of the Gusu Sect, but even then, when he stared at the rules, his head spun. Who was responsible for the ‘Will not allow students from YunmengJiang Sect’ rule?

Over the days, Lan ZiShui found himself very isolated. It had been a week since he had come to the sect. Every day he cleaned the courtyard, played with rabbits and water the carrots and radishes. Despite his running around, he’d hardly seen any other students of the GusuLan Sect who were always either studying or cultivating. He attempted to sneak into the classes a few times but was punished and was forced to stare at the wall of rules. However, today was different. His master…no, Hanguang-Jun woke up! His master had been unconscious for a week, so at the first sign of movement in the room, SiZhui rushed in without warning. He found WangJi sitting in bed with furrowed brows and a hand pressed to his head.

“Mas- Hanguang-Jun, are you ok?” SiZhui asked.

WangJi looked over the SiZhui and seemed to remember something. His brows furrowed further as he recalled his detour to the riverbend. He sighed slightly as he nodded. The deep emotions hidden in the depths of his eyes were hard to read.

“I’ll bring you something to eat!”

SiZhui rushed out with excited clamour and rushed towards the kitchen.

“Running is against the rules of the GusuLan Sect,” a voice called as SiZhui rushed past.

Hearing the voice, SiZhui’s speed dropped to a comically fast-paced walk until he reached the kitchens. It was rare that those other than the cooks entered the kitchens, but SiZhui currently didn’t have the authority to send others to the kitchen and hence could only do so himself. He ladled a bowl of plain congee with a distasteful expression and carried it back to his master hurriedly. In this week, he’d learnt that the food in the sect was… extremely plain! On his travels with his master, he’d eaten plain dishes, but nothing quite as plain as a bowl of plain congee lacking in the slightest flavour. When he reached his master’s courtyard, he found that WangJi was already full dressed and presentable. SiZhui watched his master finish the congee and sent the bowl back, but when he returned the second time, his master was no where to be seen. A little toddler, whose walking had improved substantially with the extensive walking around the sect, wandered around with purpose until he finally found his master sitting in front of the wall of rules.

“Mas- Hanguang-Jun, why are you sitting in front of the wall of rules? Were you sent here too? Did you make a mistake as well?”

“Mn.”

SiZhui expression could adequately be summed up with the three dots of an ellipsis. Which questions exactly was he answer with that answer! He knelt down next to WangJi was an expression that read that he would follow his master.

“SiZhui was running around the sect and needs to be punished too. I will look at the wall of rules with master,” SiZhui stated matter-of-factly.

“Mn.”

Hearing this answer, SiZhui could feel a vein throb in his head. Surely this master of his wasn’t normal!

A low voice suddenly spoke next to SiZhui, “…made a mistake.”

SiZhui could feel the heavy sadness that was deeply embedded in his master’s voice.

“What kind of mistake did you make?”

“A terrible one.”

SiZhui didn’t push further when he heard his master say such words. It was obviously not a story that meant to surface again, but he was always curious about the undercurrent of sadness that seemed to undermine his master’s every action and movement.

“How long are we going to stare at the wall?”

“Mn.”

When the sunset fell, SiZhui slumped over onto the floor from his kneeling position. Pins and needles had long invaded his legs to the points they felt like they would fall off. He couldn’t even stand up because of how long he’d been in the position. He turned to look at his master whose position hadn’t changed at all.

WangJi could feel the searing pain in his legs too but compared to the agonising pain that burned itself into his back, he felt that the pain in his legs was trivial. He watched the wall earnestly reading every rule and settled on those that he been added after the massacre with mixed emotions. The newly added rules reminded him heavily of his crime, but they also seemed to toy with his heartstrings. The rules were specifically added to prevent another YiLing Patriarch amongst the sect; however, he couldn’t help but feel that the rules existed to dismiss the feelings he carried for said YiLing Patriarch. Eventually, it was the loyalty to his sect that won out. Minutes before dinner was to be served, WangJi returned to his room.

SiZhui followed behind his master faithfully and watched WangJi sit at the table. There was no change in his master’s face, but he could sense that something was amiss, so he promptly went to find the sect head.

“Sect head! Mas- Hanguang-Jun is awake!”

“SiZhui, don’t raise your voice in the sect.”

“Master has woken up, but there something not right with him.”

Hearing this, XiChen went to find his brother. He found WangJi sitting at a table staring blankly at a wall.

A warm touch covered WangJi’s forehead followed by a sigh, “You’ve got a fever.”

“Ah, it was cold today when we went to face the wall of rules!” SiZhui piped.

XiChen could feel a headache coming on as he asked, “You went to the wall of rules?”

“Mn.”

An aura of anger seemed to fill the room despite XiChen’s kindly expression.

“Go to bed,” XiChen commanded with a genial smile.

WangJi sat still for a minute until XiChen personally pulled him with an unknow amount of force and forced him into bed. For the first time, SiZhui found out that his master also had a stubborn side.


	25. Chapter 25

It was a few days before Wangji had recovered enough to be able to leave his room with XiChen’s permission. WangJi had been planning to head straight back to the Wall of Rules after he’d recovered; however, XiChen had stopped him before he’d even stepped out the door of his courtyard.

“You’re injured. You cannot go to the Wall of Rules. At least wait until you’ve fully healed,” XiChen insisted.

WangJi didn’t respond as he stood by the door. His disagreement was obvious. He always held the sect rules in too high a regard that was sometimes of detriment to himself. Naturally, he had made such a mistake that could have caused devastating damage to the sect, he couldn’t idly sit back and dismiss his punishment. 

After a silent stalemate, WangJi won the upper hand with sheer persistence leaving XiChen no choice but to let his brother get battered by the wind again in front of the Wall of Rules. Sighing, XiChen resorted to using another method to convince his brother to return to rest some more. XiChen stepped purposefully towards the classroom. It was still early morning and there was still a class ongoing, so he stayed outside for a few minutes until the class was over. Naturally, a sect famous for its rigidity wouldn’t end classes even a minute late. The students remained in the room to review their learnings while Lan QiRen exited the room with a nodding expression. It appeared that the juniors he was teaching now were to his standards.

“The class was good?” XiChen asked.

“The students are obedient. They don’t disobey their elders and adhere to the teachings well. The youngsters will grow up well. It seems the GusuLan Sect will have a bright future,” QiRen smiled as he snapped his fan closed.

“As the Sect Head, that relieves me immensely,” XiChen smiled.

“Did you have something to discuss, XiChen?” QIRen questioned.

“It’s about WangJi. He returned from Burial Mound with a fever. When he regained consciousness, he went to the Wall of Rules as per his punishment; however, in his current state, his body will not last. His body has not yet had time to heal from the lashing with the discipline whip, it he continues to push himself, his body may collapse.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s returned to the Wall of Rules. He already lost consciousness once a few days again with a fever, if he kneels in front of the Wall of Rules again getting blown by the cold winds and rain, I’m worried he may fall sick again. Can you have a chat with him?”

QiRen sighed, “I will talk with him.”

QiRen’s robes billowed behind him as he leapt towards the Wall of Rules. Nearing his destination, QiRen saw his nephew solemnly kneeling in front of the wall concentratedly reading line after line surrounded by heavy silence.

When QiRen landed, WangJi bowed in his kneeling position and waited for his uncle to speak.

“How are you WangJi?” QiRen asked.

WangJi’s face remained indifferent, “Ok.”

Knowing his nephew was a man of few words, QiRen pushed onwards.

“XiChen told me you returned from Burial Mounds with a child,” QiRen stated.

“Mn.”

WangJi truly had brought SiZhui back; he couldn’t deny his actions.

“You returned with a child of the QishanWen Sect. Do you know this could damage the sect forever!” QiShen exclaimed.

“This is the sect your ancestors toiled away hundreds of years! I allowed you to go to Burial Mounds to settle your mind and clear your grievances, yet you return with a child from the enemy sect who may one day bring calamity upon us!”

“I will protect him.”

“Why? Why do you need to protect him? You have barely passed marriageable age, yet you want to raise a child?”

“I will raise SiZhui well.”

QiRen could feel his temple throbbing with anger as he talked with his nephew.

“Wei WuXian was the YiLing Patriarch. The QishanWen Sect was a universal enemy. If people find out that this child is of the Wen Clan blood and raised by the YiLing Patriarch, what will become of the GusuLan Sect?”

“SiZhui has lost his memories. There will be no danger to the sect.”

As WangJi said this, his eyes narrowed with determination. As long as he was within the GusuLan Sect, no harm would come to Lan SiZhui. No one would no of SiZhui’s heritage and no one would find out about SiZhui’s past.

“Then given that you plan on raising this child, why is it that you are abandoning him to wander around on his own around the sect so that you can kneel before the Wall of Rules?”

“I must atone for the mistakes I’ve made.”

“You are still injured. Kneel when you are well. You’ve brought in a disciple into the sect. Raise him well and don’t let his history be known. How do you intend to protect him if you can barely stand?”

WangJi’s face grew complicated. Indeed, there was reason within his uncle’s words. He needed to have the strength to protect SiZhui. However, his moral standing wouldn’t let him forget the punishment that he was meant to sustain.

“Your punishment can wait. Rest and raise your disciple well.”

WangJi nodded as he stood up. He looked once more towards the Wall of Rules before leaving towards his courtyard.

QiRen rubbed his temples with a sigh. He could feel that his nephew’s mental state was unstable and had been so since he had received new of Wei WuXian’s death. He could only hope that the child he’d brought in, the YiLing Patriarch’s last remaining legacy, could help him stabilise it. The grief that WangJi felt exuded from him like an aura that never dissipated. His originally clean and pure bearing had been imbued with a sense of sadness and mourning that was almost tangible to QiRen and XiChen. However, as difficult as it was, this was something that WangJi had to overcome alone. After all, there wasn’t another Wei Ying who could heal WangJi’s bereaved soul. 


	26. Chapter 26

Lan SiZhui spent the night with pursed lips as he rolled around in bed. No matter how he twisted and turned, he couldn’t find a comfortable position. He had never seen his master’s prowess; however, he was convinced that his master was not weak. How was it then, that he was weak to the point of collapsing multiple times in the little time he’d known him? While they were kneeling at the wall of rules, Hanguang-Jun had told him that he’d made a mistake. Did the mistake his master make have something to with his weakness? Although he was curious, SiZhui also had the slight feeling that it wasn’t something he should be curious about. If it were something that he could inquire about, his master would have told him, but given the scene he’d witnessed at the riverbend, it made sense to him that it was related to the song his master had played.

Early the next morning, SiZhui woke up at the usual time and continued to ponder even as he ate the plain breakfast with a grimacing face. He toddled tirelessly to WangJi’s court where he began his daily activity of caring for the impeccable yard. He fed the rabbits, watered the carrots and radishes, fiddled with his toys, ate his lunch and waited for his master to come out of his room. Even though midday had passed, WangJi’s room held no sign of movement.

Within the room, WangJi sat at the table staring at the blue and red butterfly toy that he’d bought for SiZhui. There was some damage from the rough play, but WangJi ran his fingers carefully over the sculpture as if it were made from glass. Carefully, WangJi pulled out the symbol of the YunmengJiang Sect from his pocket. The tasselled bell jingled quietly as it was moved around. The familiar ringing of the bed helped ease some of the unspeakable pain that nestled in WangJi’s consciousness. He carefully rested the bell in-between the two butterflies on the magnolia carrier and placed it in a drawer. Those of the GusuLan Sect had no desire for worldly possessions. As the sect head’s brother, he couldn’t be seen treasuring an ornament from another sect or a damaged sculpture that held no historical importance.

Seeing the sculpture disappeared behind the cupboard door, WangJi, in his feverish state of mind felt the crushing sense of loss he’d experience at Burial Mounds. It was only when he was ill and unguarded that he allowed himself the luxury of wallowing in his grief. He felt that even if he bowed in front of the wall of rules for a thousand days, he would still not be able to compensate for Wei Ying’s loss. Even in his confused state, WangJi still couldn’t blame Jiang Cheng for all that he had done. In the end, despite all that was said and done, Wei Ying had been a demonic cultivator that had threated the whole of Jianghu. He had orphaned the brother who had been raised with him, saved the very people who had threatened to dominate the Jianghu and used an artifact that revived more fierce corpses than the sects were capable of dealing with. He was well aware, Wei Ying was by no means a blank sheet of paper, but he was frustrated with the way the whole of the cultivation world had treated Wei Ying.

Wei Ying had been a kind individual with a misdirected moral compass. He had always fought for justice even for those who were unable to fight for themselves and strove to maintain justice even expense of his own life. In the end, WangJi couldn’t decide whether or not Wei Ying had been right to do all that he had done, but he had already lost the chance he had to stand beside Wei Ying to compensate those who needed it. Even the wisps of his soul had faded into oblivion.

WangJi felt his heart ache.

_‘Wei Ying, do you know? Even if the whole Jianghu celebrates your death, I will mourn for you.’_

With no grave, no family, no coffin, no altar, no body, no ashes, no wake and nothing to symbolise Wei Ying’s existence, WangJi couldn’t help but feel sorrow overcoming his heart. One’s entire life, how could there be nothing to mark someone’s existence except for hatred? WangJi pulled out the butterfly sculpture again and placed it in the direction facing Yiling. He retrieved a sandalwood incence stick and lit it using spiritual energy. Kneeling down, WangJi held the Joss stick close as he quelled his emotions.

Lowering his head, WangJi bowed once.

_‘Wei Ying, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’_

Lowering his head a second time, WangJi bowed a second time.

_‘Please let your spirit be at peace.’_

WangJi hesitated before bowing a third time.

_‘I hope you are happy in the afterlife. I love you.’_

Raising his head, WangJi gently placed the joss stick beside in front of the Jiang Sect bell beside the blue and purple butterfly. He watched it burn without moving as he waited until only embers remained. Blowing the ash away, WangJi put away the sculpture and bell back into the draw. He closed the draw with a melancholic expression that spoke volumes of his emotions.

As he moved to sit down, there was a quick knock on his door. WangJi inaudibly sighed as he stood back up to push the door open. Outside, SiZhui stood with a bowl of plain congee in his hands with surprise written across his face.

“Hanguang-Jun, you’re awake! I was delivering some congee but didn’t know if you were feeling ok from the fever,” SiZhui stammered.

_‘Fever? Perhaps it was his fever that was making him melancholic?’_

WangJi didn’t make SiZhui stand ceremony as he gestured to let him in. SiZhui made his way into the room. Master and disciple ate their plain dinner together quietly at the table. Master and disciple each had their own thoughts that were dwelled upon the entire duration of dinner until SiZhui actively searched for a conversation topic after the evening meal. As he looked around the room, he finally found something he recognised.

“Mas- Hanguang-Jun, over there. That jar. The sect master must have put it there a few days after you weren’t feeling well.”

WangJi turned to look at what SiZhui was pointing at to. Inconspicuously, lying in the corner of the room, was the jar of TianziXiao (Emperor’s Smile).


	27. Chapter 27

The plain brown jar, covered with ostentatious red cloth and labelled with the same audaciously red label, sat calmly in the corner of the room. Over the time that WangJi was unconscious, it had gathered a faint layer of dust. WangJi walked to the jar and picked it up with some guilt clawing at his conscience. It was in a moment of weakness when he’d caved in to his grief that he’d bought the jar of alcohol on impulse, but holding the jar with SiZhui in the room made him feel a sense of shame. He ushered SiZhui back to his dormitory for the night as he sat down table staring at the jar. It was precisely this familiar jar of TianziXiao that had brought all the turmoil and disrupted his tranquillity. More precisely, it was the encounter that involve this familiar jar that had led him to do things that he had never imagined possible. 

Long fingers gently touched the crinkled label covering the earthen jar. WangJi remembered the first time he ever saw alcohol was when Wei Ying tried to bring a jar of TianziXiao into the sect. At that time he had been filled with rage that there was a person disrespectful enough to blatantly try and drink alcohol within the sect. This was the first time that he’d realised that although the disciples of the GusuLan followed the sect rules, this was not universal. He had never come in contact with such a person before and it was a curious feeling. The GusuLan Sect rules were extremely strict and constraining, so when he saw Wei Ying for cheekily try to drink some TianziXiao, it was freeing. The sect rules were engraved into his soul from birth, so he had no option, but to uphold the rules and chase after Wei Ying. However, this was the excuse he gave to himself, but there was a part of him that had wanted to see Wei Ying break the rules. Wei Ying’s appearance had been a sudden emergence in his life, a bright surprise one could say. Sitting on top of the slated tile roof with a jar of TianziXiao facing against the moon, Wei Ying had been a rebelliously picturesque scene. Perhaps it was the mischievous, yet beautiful smile that drew him in or the black robes that shackled him that attracted his attention, but in that moment, he hadn’t been able to look away.

This jar of alcohol had started it all. It had only worsened when Wei Ying stepped out and began drinking it. The clear liquid had spilled down his chin and his eyes had squinted in enjoyment. Unfortunately, before he had been able to enjoy that scene for long, he had caught up causing Wei Ying to drop the jar he prized so much. From that moment on, he had tried to tell himself that Wei Ying was not worth liking and failed. It was the only failure he’d ever faced, but it was no longer a failure. Loving Wei Ying was neither a failure nor a regret. Perhaps he had been drawn to the courage that Wei Ying had to step beyond the rules. He was also someone who had faced unfortunate circumstances; his black robes were enough to paint a picture since day one. A member of the YunmengJiang Sect that wore black robes despite possessing a YunmengJiang Sect bell. He had been a noteworthy member of those who’d come to study at GusuLan since day one. Yet, despite his circumstances, he had the courage to break the rules that had constricted him so tightly and still maintain a cheerful demeanour.

WangJi held the jar cautiously in his hands. Wei Ying was no more, but his memory left a deep impression on him. He wanted to know what it was about this alcohol that had drawn Wei Ying to it. What was the attraction that this jar of liquid held that he could force Wei Ying to break the rules? WangJi was slightly hesitant as he placed the jar on the table and peeled away the lid. The fragrant smell of alcohol instantly condensed in the air. The intense fragrance caused him to wrinkle his nose, but it seemed to grow on him. The more he smelt the alcohol, the more he was drawn to it.

Pulling a teacup towards him, WangJi gently poured a cupful of TianziXiao for himself. He stared at the cup for a few minutes fighting the inner battle to determine whether or not to drink it, but as he recalled the memories of Wei Ying treasuring that jarful of alcohol, he couldn’t resist the temptation. His feverish mind collapsed the last mental barrier towards the alcohol and WangJi tilted his head back the drink the scathing liquid. The alcohol seemed to scald his throat as he drank it, but he could understand why Wei Ying appreciated the taste. TianziXiao held a deep bitterness followed by the stringent taste of loquats that burned his throat as he drank it. Despite the fiery sensation, it compelled people to drink it. It was a nostalgic taste despite not having tasted it before. Following his first cup, WangJi poured himself another two. Wei Ying had enjoyed many cups before he felt unwell, so he should also be able to drink a few cups. Unfortunately, as Lan who had never touched a drop of alcohol before, he had little resistance to the effects of alcohol. Coupled with his feverish state, WangJi quickly began to flush red. WangJi’s eyes grew hazy as he continued to remember his most significant moments beside Wei Ying. He recalled when they were in the library together, when they studied together, when they were in the forest together, when they were together in the cave. He smiled at the thought of some memories and frowned at other. However, most striking memory was watching Wei Ying play the flute shortly after he’d become the YiLing Patriarch. With ChenQing pressed to his lips, Wei Ying had controlled the fierce corpses that were once thought to be untamable. It wasn’t far after this moment that Wei Ying had slipped from his fingers. He had urged Wei Ying to come back to Gusu with him but had failed. Perhaps, if he had tried harder, Wei Ying would still be standing beside him today. 


	28. Chapter 28

‘ _It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. If I’d tried harder, perhaps I wouldn’t be in this situation. If I’d been beside Wei Ying since the beginning this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d been firmer, I could have saved him’._

WangJi thought of all that of all the possibilities. It was just a pity that there was no way to find what has once been lost. His drunken thoughts spiralled as he thought about Wei Ying. When he remembered the moment he had seen Wei Ying play ChenQing, it was followed with remembering that Wei Ying would never be able to play again. The beautifully skilled melody that he had heard time and time again, would never be heard again. WangJi could only mourn in his heart. He wanted to hear that melody again. He wanted to see the person the person who played it. In his intoxicated state, WangJi’s thought became simple. He wanted to heard Wei Ying play again. Wei Ying had gone somewhere and hadn’t come back yet, but if there was no flute when he returned, how could he play?

Thoughts spiralling out of control, WangJi stood up with a sway. He stumbled as he drunkenly tried to think of where Wei Ying’s flute might be kept the flute. All the items that had been seized from the battle with QishanWen Sect had been kept in the storage room within the heart of the GusuLan Sect. Gasping at straws, WangJi’s thoughts connected. If items confiscated from other sects, such as the QishanWen Sect, had been kept in storage room, it stood to reason that anything taken from Wei Ying must be stored there as well. In his drunken stupor, WangJi did not take into account that ChenQing was not in the GusuLan Sect to begin with. Naturally, following this train of thought, WangJi rose to his full height with a distinctive drunken sway that would suggest to most that WangJi had had more than three small cups of alcohol. Stumbling left and right, WangJi tightly grasped onto the table to keep his balance and edged his way to the wall. He leaned on the wall all the way to the door where he found that it was not longer possible to grasp onto convenient items in the environment. His clouded mind led him to attempt to step out into the courtyard; however, his limb refused to answer his call. During his step, his left leg elevated while swinging left and right dangerously until extending to hit the threshold step of the courtyard effectively sending WangJi’s balance to an unknown location. In simple terms, he tripped. Without an ounce of his usually grace and elegance, WangJi fell forwards to kiss the ground with a hard and heavy thump. Groaning, WangJi held his aching head that had noticeably bruised while letting blood freely drip down from his nose. WangJi felt an itch under his nose. The blood that had been dripping down now smeared across his hand and transferred onto his GusuLan Sect robes. WangJi repeated this action multiple times leading to a deep red path across the front of the sect robes.

At the moment, WangJi did not possess even an ounce of his usual cordiality or cleanliness. Picking himself up, he continued to meander towards the storage room. The storeroom was a short distance away from his room; however, despite the short distance, there were a few GusuLan Sect disciples that saw WangJi in his drunken state. Many of the disciples expressed shock at seeing their most respected teacher in such a state. Not many within the GusuLan Sect were privy of WangJi’s suffering and were unsure of what to do.

It was only when one quick-witted disciple hurried away to call the sect head that the other disciples quickly dispersed in fear of reprimand from the sect head. The disciples were aware of the rule prohibiting alcohol, given Han-GuangJun’s upright nature, it was likely that there was an explanation for his behaviour that they would not be privy to. Gossip was prohibited in the sect, so the quick dispersion of disciples would protect them from kneeling in front of the wall of rules. Hence, when Lan XiChen went looking for his brother, there was not a disciple in sight.

XiChen had been completing his duties when he’d heard a knock at his door.

“Enter.”

“Sect master! Han GuangJun is… acting strangely,” the disciple relayed.

The disciple hesitated to utter the word ‘drunk’ in favour of behaving strangely when he considered that his assumption might be incorrect.

XiChen’s brow furrowed, “How?”

“Han GuangJun was stumbling when he walked. He couldn’t walk in a straight line and he’s covered in blood.”

Hearing that WangJi might be injured again, XiChen stood up abruptly and asked, “Where?”

“In the main courtyards. He was going in a southerly direction at the time.”

XiChen didn’t waste time and instantly made his way towards the main courtyards. When he arrived, he didn’t see any trace of his brother. Even the disciples seemed to have disappeared at this time. He followed the directions of the disciple and headed towards the south. 

By the time, WangJi head already neared the storeroom. He stood in front of the door staring at the lock. His hands fiddled around with the lock unsuccessfully. Frustration mounted as WangJi realised that he would not be able to pry the lock open bare-handed. A frown settled on his face as he drew Bichen from its scabbard and ruthlessly swung at the door. The door instantly fell apart revealing the historical treasures amassed by the legacy of the GusuLan Clan. Many items had been burned when the QisheWen burned Cloud Recess down; however, what little could be rescued was carefully preserved within the storage room; each item was carefully placed an impeccably packaged to prevent dust and damage from accumulating. The effort used to carefully handle the treasures of Cloud Recess that were painstakingly preserved was laid to waste in a second as WangJi forcefully entered with a single goal in mind: Find ChengQing. 


	29. Chapter 29

Treasures that had lasted centuries were carelessly pushed away in WangJi’s desperate search for ChengQing. He moved drawers, lifted shelves and damaged walls trying to find the elusive flute with no luck. He felt that the other treasures were suddenly an eyesore, an obstruction to his search and used spiritual energy to move everything into a corner of the storage room. All the treasures held by the GusuLan sect in a storage room that extended three courtyards was suddenly pushed all into the space of a single bedroom. WangJi thoughtless threw millennia old spiritual scripts and relics that had been cherished to the side while he searched.

WangJi felt his heart clutch as he searched; he searched and searched and still nothing. He couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find Wei Ying and now he couldn’t even find ChengQing. The more he failed to find ChengQing, the more he could feel his grief amplify. WangJi’s slammed a clenched fist into the wall as he grit his teeth. The flute was elusive just as Wei Ying had once been. He must find it! 

WangJi’s eyes grew more lost as he continued to ransack fallen chests and drawers to face continual failure. The crushing sense of loss overwhelmed his drunken state to the point that he continued to search even when his fingers cut into his palm. Blood coated the treasures he touched as the mask of indifference was torn off to reveal bitter grief. Why couldn’t he find it? A sob echoed around the confines of the empty room as WangJi fell against a wall. He rested his head against the wall as he cursed life for mocking him.

XiChen heard his brother before he saw him. From outside the storeroom, he heard the creaking as hundreds of pieces of priceless mementos were moved. He moved quickly to investigate. Upon entering the storeroom, XiChen stopped dead in his tracks. He looked towards the large piles of scrolls, weaponry, historical artefacts, relics, treasures and clan heirlooms in dismay before his eyes shifted to the hunched figure sitting beside it. He recognised the hunched figure in a glance and carefully walked his way towards his brother. It wasn’t like WangJi to act out in such a manner. He had never created this much disturbance within the sect before, but XiChen had an idea of what may have clouded WangJi’s consciousness. After all, he had personally stored the jars of TianziXiao away.

As XiChen neared WangJi, he noticed the small traces of blood that covered the relics and sighed. He could smell the scent of alcohol mixed with sandalwood that seemed to surround WangJi as he drew near.

Crouching by his brother’s side, XiChen cautiously asked, “Lan Zhan, are you ok?”.

There was no response to XiChen’s question. Sighing, XiChen grasped WangJi’s hands and turned them over. Bleeding wounds shaped like fingernails revealed themselves. Thankfully, there appeared to be no further wounds. He could tell his brother was inebriated, but given that he was still so withdrawn, he shouldn’t have ingested enough to still be somewhat aware.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” XiChen called.

WangJi’s eyes opened briefly in a mourning gaze.

“I can’t find it,” WangJi rasped.

“What are you looking for?”

“Flute.”

XiChen’s eyes widened in surprise. Lan Zhan had created this much mess in search of a flute?

“We have flutes,” XiChen nodded.

WangJi’s fixation led XiChen to believe that there was special significance behind the flute. In his inebriated state, he was still able to relay that the flute he was searching for held significance towards WangJi’s current state.

XiChen used some spiritual power to search through the piles of items until he found what he was searching for. As he reached into pull the flute from the stack of items, some items moved and some clattered to the ground. XiChen ignored the fallen items as he focused solely on reaching to grab the flute. The flute he grasped was a flute made of superior, sheep’s fat jade that revealed a pearly lustre when under light. The flute was capable of playing enchanting melodies and calming restless spiritual energy. It was a treasure in and of itself that much of the world would never be able to bear witness to.

XiChen held this flute and presented it to his brother.

“Here. This is the highest grade flute within the sect. Are you planning on playing the flute as well?” XiChen asked.

WangJi held the flute with a blurred, lost looked. He observed the flute for a few moments before tossing the flute to the side much to XiChen’s dismay.

XiChen rushed to catch the flute in his hands as he asked, “Is this not a flute?”

WangJi shook his head. “Black flute.”

XiChen’s expression turned puzzled. _WangJi wanted a bamboo flute?_

Unlike jade flutes, bamboo flutes were common and not highly prized amongst musicians, practitioners or collectors. Jade flutes produced a more resonant sound and promoted the activation of spiritual energy whilst bamboo flutes were of poorer quality and the less desired material of production. However, that did not meant that the GusuLan Sect would be without a bamboo flute. XiChen searched through the contents of the storeroom until he found a flute that fit WangJi’s specifications.

He passed WangJi the flute. Within seconds, the flute was thrown across the room with a clatter.

“Not that flute!” WangJi insisted.

His mounting frustration was evident on his face as he gripped his brother’s arm.

“What flute then, Lan Zhan? Tell me,” XiChen urged.

WangJi was silent for a few moments, “ChengQing.”

Deafening silence descended upon the room. Finally, XiChen understood. WangJi hadn’t been searching for a flute; he had been searching for ‘something that belonged to his beloved’. XiChen felt an invisible pressure on his chest as he tried to comfortingly advised WangJi that the infamous flute had disappeared just like it’s owner. 

“ChengQing was the YiLing Patriarch’s personal weapon. After the massacre of Nightless City, we couldn’t track it down. It isn’t within the GusuLan Sect,” XiChen advised hesitantly.


	30. Chapter 30

“ChengQing…isn’t here?” WangJi repeated hoarsely.

XiChen’s lips tightened as he nodded. His eyes were filled with sorrow as he slumped down next to WangJi.

Resting a hand on WangJi’s shoulder, XiChen quietly comforted his brother. The words that he wanted to say would have no effect. The large storeroom seemed infinitely larger as the silence hung heavily in the air. The gentle smell of TianziXiao permeated the air filled with sorrow, longing and pity.

WangJi’s eyes dropped down to the ground as he clutched the ends of the cloud embroided ribbon.

‘So…it was all gone. Sui Bian, ChengQing, Wei Ying…they were all gone within nothing to remember him by.’

‘That was incorrect. There was still one thing, A-Yuan.’

The little child that would one day grow large and leave him, just like Wei Ying. Nothing that Wei Ying had left was eternal. He wanted something that would last until the end of time. Something that commemorated Wei Ying and celebrated his life. A legacy that was never fading. He wanted it with him all the time. He wanted something that belonged solely to Wei Ying, something that signified him, something that represented his life.

XiChen tried to bring WangJi out of his thoughts. He spoke many unfamiliar comforting words, but could see the confused and unlistening glazed eyes that seemed to miss everything he said. He wanted to help WangJi and wished he could have bore some of the weight form his brother’s grievances; however, wishes could only be wishes. Even if he shook his brother, WangJi seemed to not hear him at all. He tried to fool himself and pretend it was the influence of the alcohol; however, he also knew that his brother’s state was only partially because of the alcohol. His current actions were all the desires he restrained with the discipline he’d been raised with.

So engrossed in his thoughts, WangJi completely missed his brother’s words of comfort and support. His felt body want to give in to the alcohol and fall into unconsciousness; however, he was unable to maintain his upright position and fell to the side. XiChen immediately stood back up to when he saw WangJi fall into the pile of forgotten items.

“You need to rest. You’ve barely recovered and are already drinking to oblivion. I haven’t even reprimanded you for drinking alcohol yet, so don’t go damaging any more of the items left in here. You’ve already moved a fair few of them I’d say. I’d still like to leave more than shattered pieces for the next generation,” XiChen sighed with a helpless smile.

WangJi blinked as his eyes readjusted to the sudden change in position. His eyes landed to the objects that had shifted during his fall. Hidden quietly beneath an incense carrier, were some metal rods that slanted inconspicuously against the wall. As he shifted positions to sit upright, he saw that the metal rods were, in fact, not quite metal rods. They were branding irons like those branded onto slaves. In the centre of the metal plate lay the motif of the sun: circular in appearance surrounded by the shining rays to represent the sun.

WangJi recognised the motif on sight. This was the brand that Wei Ying had been branded with in Drusk Creek Mountain by a member of the ruined QishanWen Sect. He remembered that moment clear as day. The junior members of all major sect gathered in the cave in Dusk Creek Mountain during the training session commanded by Wen RuoHan. Wei Ying had stepped in to interfere when a female cultivator was being threatened and been branded with the symbol of the QishanWen Sect. The sizzling sound and burnt smell of Wei Ying’s flesh as he was branded was still strongly present in his mind. His heart ached at the thought.

His fuzzy mind recalled the charred, burnt skin that had remained uneven and scarred even after the wound healed. The brand of the QishanWen Sect had remained embedded into Wei Ying’s chest forever.

Forever.

There was one legacy that had never changed and would forever be unchanging. The banding. The scar that had never disappeared. That would remain forever even if Wei Ying’s mortal body was no more. The greatest reminder of Wei Ying’s justice and forever a remnant of his person.

He wanted it. He wanted the same mark that Wei Ying carried. Wei Ying’s body could disappear, his scar could scatter, his child could leave, but the only thing that would remain constant was that scar.

XiChen noticed a change in WangJi’s behaviour as he tried to shake him into reality again; however, WangJi was so far in his thoughts that he could no longer be awoken.

WangJi brushed his brother’s arm aside as he stood up with a dangerous sway. As he stood up, his robe snagged on a wooden box revealing a portion of his toned chest. He didn’t bother to remedy his messy dress and marched towards the branding iron.

XiChen kept track of his brother in his original position. There were definitely some dangerous items store in the sect; however, those with fire power were all stored away in a secure area, so XiChen was certain that there was nothing the could hurt his brother in the store room.

WangJi dug through the storeroom inventory until he got to the branding irons. He stood directly in front of the branding iron blocking the full view from Xichen who stood behind him.

WangJi had no hesitation. He wanted to endure the same that pain that Wei Ying had felt; he wanted to carry the same scar at the same place. Looking down, he noticed that his robe had been pulled down during his journey. Wei Ying’s brand had been on his chest. Then his too, would also be on his chest.

In one smooth action, one of the three branding irons was pulled cleanly from its place in the pile.

Spiritual power was spilt into the branding iron haphazardly. The redness shone in the darkness and radiated heat in seconds.

XiChen recognised the branding iron as soon as WangJi pulled it from the pile and rushed towards his brother in an attempt to stop WangJi from self-mutilating.

WangJi was deaf to XiChen’s warnings. As he focused on the branding iron an imperceptible smile on his lips. The branding iron was raised and thrust into his chest in a matter of seconds. XiChen only reached WangJi after the initial contact and was thus smelt the burning flesh and saw the melting skin before he was able to pull the branding iron away. 


	31. Chapter 31

“WangJi!” XiChen yelled as he churned spiritual power to boost his momentum.

He approached WangJi in a matter of second and tore the branding iron from his brother’s hands. His face revealed a look of tragic despair as he noticed the deeply rooted symbol of the QishanWen Clan that had been burned across his chest. The wound was blistering at a rate visible to the eye and inflamed deep crimson red. With just a glance, XiChen could tell how much pain his brother was enduring. In spite of the pain, WangJi simply grit his teeth and bore it silently. XiChen could almost feelt he heart-wrenching pain his brother was in when he watched WangJi start to tremor from pain.

XiChen pulled WangJi away from the pile of items to take a closer look at the wound. The wound was weeping blood and had gone beyond the dermis layer of the skin. Such a burn would never heal to look like it would originally. WangJi would forever carry the insignia of an enemy clan on his chest like a traitor.

XiChen pulled his brother over his shoulder and rushed out of the storage room. There was little time. Although the damage was irreversible, it could be lessened. WangJi may not consider it a mar on his honour, but it was a humiliating mark that represented WangJi disobedience to the GusuLan rules.

“Physician, call for a physician!” XiChen called.

He disregarded the rules and rushed towards WangJi’s room as he yelled commands left and right to prepare medical equipment and summon a physician to look over WangJi’s wounds.

Lan SiZhui was in his quarters; however, when he heard the ruckus, he was roused awake. Having lacked anything interesting and fresh over the last week, he listened eagerly to the gossip until he realised that the gossip was, in fact, about his master who was, once again, injured.

Lan SiZhui disregarded all the curious and suspicious remarks and dashed towards his master’s room. With no authority to enter, SiZhui was barred from entering and could only wait while nervously pacing outside.

WangJi laid on the bed within his room; a physician looked over his wounds and spoke calmly to XiChen.

“Sect master, I’m afraid young master Lan has done extensive damage to his body. With the wounds from the discipline whip that were worsened by his journeying and now this wound, I’m afraid he may be unable to fully recover for a few years. The burn wound is quite severe. Young master Lan has a fever and the wound would usually remain open for about a week before the healing process starts. However, as this burn was created using spiritual energy, the wound will take longer to heal and cannot be healed using external interventions. I can provide a script to ease the pain, however, I am unable to provide any further assistance as of right now. Furthermore, if young master Lan continues to act the way that he does, I’m afraid it may not just be his reputation that he loses, but his life also,” the physician explained.

XiChen’s brows furrowed, “Is there any way to reduce the scarring or heal the rest of his body quicker?”

The physician shook his head, “I’m afraid not. The branding iron relies on spiritual energy to mar a person’s body. It was designed to create maximal damage with the least amount of spiritual energy so that a person with very little spiritual energy would still be able to use it. As such, the branding iron changes the formation of the spiritual energy and binds it to minute amounts of demonic energy to cause injuries rather than heal injures. It is a vindictive and forbidding punishment to use.”

XiChen rubbed his temples as he thanked the physician. Lan QiRen arrived shortly after the physician left.

“What happened to WangJi?” QiRen asked.

“He branded himself with the QishanWen Clan branding iron,” XiChen sighed.

“How did this happen?” QiRen asked as he furrowed his brows.

XiChen shook his head as he revealed the truth to his uncle, “There were bottles of alcohol on the table and WangJi smelt of alcohol when I found him. It is likely he was drinking alcohol prior to this incident.”

“Alcohol is forbidden in the Cloud Recess. We’ll have to punish him when he wakes up.”

“Uncle, I think he has been punished enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“WangJi can’t handle the grief. He tried to protect Wei WuXian and failed. Wei WuXian died while he was unconscious. He found nothing but a child when he went in search for ashes and not even his spirit returned his call when he played inquiry. He can’t handle any more punishment, uncle. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Every moment he is awake, he is searching for some method to regain what he has lost and he’s failing. If he could quell the loss within him, he wouldn’t have made such a mistake.”

“An error is an error. He must compensate for it.”

“Do you not think he has compensated enough already? He has suffered to the point that he has inflicted such severe injuries to himself. If we keep pushing him to punish himself, there will be repercussion that we won’t be able to recover from. I won’t risk losing my brother forever. This time he branded himself, next time he may try something even more risky. His mental state is not stable, even Lan SiZhui is not enough to pull stabilise him.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Let him heal. He will never be able to recover completely from his loss. No Lan ever recovers, but we must give him space to recover from his grief and let him heal at his own pace. All that we are accomplishing now is forcing him further into his own mind.”

QiRen rubbed his temple. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his nephew was right. His brother, QinghengJun has also never recovered from the loss of Madam Lan and their forefathers before them. All had retreated into their own consciousness.

“Then we will do as you say. When he recovers, let him go on missions again to take his mind off of Wei WuXian.”


	32. Chapter 32

Lan SiZhui had been waiting outside for more than half the night for the sect master and his uncle to come out from WangJi’s room. He stood stiff as a stick shivering from the cold as the breezy wind blew past him. Despite his aching feet and sniffling nose, he refused to budge from his spot until he had ascertained that his master was ok. He didn’t understand how it was that his master kept getting injured. No one had bothered to debrief a child about the situation with the sect master’s brother and had been going back and further between the main hall while ignoring him while carrying medicines and guiding the physicians to and from WangJi’s room.

SiZhui’s eyes were drooping when he heard the gentle rattling sound of the door opening. SiZhui’s eyes burst open as he waited eagerly hoping to eavesdrop on some of the conversation that the sect master was having on the way out. He knelt down on the wooden floor and placed his ear close to the paper screen in an unmistakable position of an eavesdropped.

As a sect master, even if SiZhui had been more skilful at hiding himself than he was currently, there was no way that SiZhui’s presence would go unnoticed no matter how had he attempted to hide. The gap between a child and a master was beyond SiZhui’s comprehension.

XiChen kneeled down and placed a hand on SiZhui’s head with a gentle smile as he spoke lightly,   
“WangJi is ok. He’s had a few difficulties recently and has had trouble facing them. I hope you’ll stay close to him and help him through his grief.”

Lan SiZhui cocked his head to the side. As intelligent of a child as he was, he genuinely couldn’t understand the complex emotions and thought behind Lan XiChen’s words. Despite his confusion, SiZhui nodded with creased brows.

SiZhui’s confusion was unmistakable.

XiChen smiled as he ruffled SiZhui’s hair, “I shouldn’t put so much pressure on a young child. I forget, you too, are going through just as much grief as WangJi is. Hanguang-Jun is ok. He’s recovering for now. Thank you for taking such good care of him. You’re doing very well and WangJi’s appreciates all of it.”

SiZhui’s eyes teared up as he listened to XiChen’s words, “Master- Hanguang-Jun likes me?”

Nodding, XiChen gently comforted SiZhui as he asked, “Of course. He brought you back. WangJi wouldn’t bring back someone he does not hold an appreciation for. Why do you think that?”

“Hanguang-Jun hasn’t come out to see SiZhui in a few days. He ignored SiZhui and doesn’t smile very much,” SiZhui explained as he waved his chubby hands around.

“Don’t worry. Hanguang-Jun is just a bit difficult to read. He doesn’t smile very much, but I’ll tell you a secret, he hasn’t let anyone into his quarters before, but you’re able to go in and out as often and as easily as you like to play with his rabits. Don’t you think that means he likes you?”

SiZhui’s eyes flashed with understanding as he wiped away the tears that had begun to collect in the corner of his eyes. Lips trembling, SiZhui crouched on the floor with a crying smile on his face.

“I wasn’t abandoned!” SiZhui said with a shaky, broad smile.

SiZhui’s words hit XiChen heavily as he realised that his lack of insight had caused a child to be neglected to the point that he thought he’d been abandoned.

Warm hands grasped SiZhui as XiChen pulled the child into a warm embrace. He gently and wordlessly brushed SiZhui’s hair with his hand as he tried to convey his emotions to him. The meaning of his actions was lost to SiZhui; however, the comfort it provided was not. SiZhui nestled into the embrace as he remembered, with nostalgia, another time that he had been held like this.

He couldn’t remember who had held him like this before or what their name was or even what they look like, but he did remember the warm sensation and the overwhelming sense of belonging that it brought him.

With a final rub, XiChen broke away from the embrace as he ushered SiZhui back to bed in his quarters. He sent other disciples to watch over the young child and ensure that child’s safe arrival while he stayed back to monitor WangJi’s condition.

WangJi’s condition appeared to have stabilised, however, he could still see beads of sweat gathering on WangJi’s forehead from the pain of being pierced by a scalding piece of iron. WangJi had already been wounded extensively multiple times, so what WangJi fell unconscious, he didn’t show any signs of regaining consciousness for two months. For those two months, the entire GusuLan clan was on edge waiting for Hanguang-Jun to wake up.

Only the sect elders, Lan QiRen and himself knew of WangJi’s wounds; however, it was only uncle and brother alone that knew that the cause of all of WangJi’s pain was Wei Ying. This left all other sect curious. Where was the famous Hanguang-Jun and why hadn’t he appeared in so long?

XiChen, as sect head, had no choice but to leave his brother’s side in order to deal with queries from other sects. To lessen the attention placed on his brother, XiChen released a rumour to all other sects, ‘Hanguang-Jun is currently being punished for breaking sect rules and will repent within the sect for an undetermined amount of time’. This rumour was neither a lie nor the truth making XiChen jittery, but he continued onwards to prevent further speculation on the sect.

He was both brother and sect head, and sometimes, the responsibilities of a sect head outweighed the responsibilities to his family even if it meant putting his brother’s honour on the line.

Following this, XiChen blocked all information streams about GusuLan clan members and forbade anyone from revealing information about any and all sect members to protect SiZhui from outside speculation. His work paid off. Very little attention was paid to an orphan brought into the sect and although the public was curious about WangJi’s supposed crime, there were none who knew of his deeds.


	33. Chapter 33

Just like this, day and night passed. SiZhui waited and waited patiently caring for the rabbits in WangJi’s courtyard and attending to all the plants and cleaning. The young child struggled exponentially, but he also found time to play with the toys his master had brought him. In spite of all the things he did, the loneliness and isolation couldn’t be kept at bay. XiChen came to visit every other day and occasionally invited SiZhui to eat with him every so often, however, for a majority of the day, SiZhui was lonely.

For two weeks SiZhui experienced the feeling of isolation. As a young child, he wanted to explore, however, the rules of the sect were strict. Every time he left his room, he was faced with disciples criticising him left and right.

He couldn’t run, jump, yell, laugh or make merry. In the end, he simply kept to himself in his master’s room waiting for WangJi to wake up again. Despite the cheery youthfulness he seemed to exude when XiChen arrived, in times like these, SiZhui curled up in a corner of his master’s courtyard and cried. A rabbit slowly moved closer to SiZhui and quietly stayed beside him as if to keep SiZhui company. Through teary eyes, SiZhui looked down at the rabbit sitting beside him; he lifted up the rabbit to place it gently on his lap as he whispered to the creature.

“Are you also lonely? But you have your family here. SiZhui doesn’t know where his family is. I heard the disciples talking about returning home, but SiZhui doesn’t have a home. Master said that cloud recess would be my home from now on, but it’s lonely here. I want to go home. Every person has two parents, so where are mine. Why can’t they take me home like everyone else?”

SiZhui remained in this state for an hour until he brushed away his tears and gathered himself again.

“Master is still hurt. I can’t just be crying,” SiZhui sniffed.

Calming himself down, he took quiet steps into WangJi’s room to sweep the interior. He looked at his master lying motionlessly with a frowning expression on the bed and pondered for a minute. A memory seemed to surface in his mind as he quickly went to wet a cloth and placed it on WangJi’s forehead. The dripping wet cloth quickly formed a puddle on WangJi’s pillow.

Panicking, SiZhui retrieved the towel, wrung it out and put it back on his master’s forehead. Satisfied with his handiwork, he tried his best to sweep the interior as best he could; however, there was only so much he could do with his short arms and legs. There were still noticeable traces of dust in areas that were hard to reach, but SiZhui chose to ignore them for another day rather than tackling them at the current moment. He squatted down next to the brown earthen jar that smelled strongly of loquats and caused a burning sensation to his nose. The red cloth had long disappeared, so his master had obviously drunken the contents, but he couldn’t fathom that it was specifically because his master had drunken the contents of the jar, that he was now laying in bed at that moment. He picked up the jar with both hands; however, upon realising the jar was heavier than he anticipated, he stumbled left and right until he was finally stable enough to place the jar down carefully.

Heart beating wildly, SiZhui looked left and right as if someone were spying on him. As he scanned his surroundings, he noted that there was a wooden panel that had been overturned while he had stumbled to and fro. Carefully stepping closer to the panel, he realised the presence of a small storage area beneath the floor panelling with a surprised expression. A thoughtful expression adorned SiZhui’s face as he looked between the jar and the floor panels. Nodding with satisfaction, SiZhui pushed the jar towards the storage area and tipped the jar in as best he could. The space wasn’t very large and despite SiZhui pushing the jar in, there wasn’t a loud crash much to his relief.

SiZhui replaced the wooden panel and sealed the storage area off again with a look of triumph. The hour was getting late, and if he walked to his room now, surely the disciples would scold him, but his stomach had been empty since lunch. With a sneaky plan in mind, SiZhui sneaked out of WangJi’s courtyard. Being knee height at most, SiZhui had a far easier time evading the common eyes as he mapped out his path to the kitchen. He hid behind the famous shrubbery and tumbled and rolled until he finally reached the kitchen. Along the way, many disciples had passed him, but none seemed to notice him much to his glee. However, as a sect that focused on martial arts, how could the disciples not notice such a noisy child crawling around trying to evade the public eye. It just so happened that the sect master had given the child some leeway due to his young age.

The kitchen was empty after dinner was served, so SiZhui didn’t have any trouble finding a few plain steamed bun to take back to his master’s room. Naturally, WangJi would have been most displease to find his disciple eating in his room, however, SiZhui didn’t want to eat alone again. He longed for the presence of another person even if that person was unconscious on the bed. As he ate he looked at his master the sense of loneliness embedded itself deep within his heart. The night, after the last bite of his steamed bun, SiZhui sat on WangJi’s bed as he remembered the short time that he and his master had been travelling. They were peaceful happy days. He wished he could return to those days without the strict and binding rules.

Drifting in and out of his thought, SiZhui drowsily lay down and eventually fell asleep next to WangJi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the chapter where I'm no longer spoonfed the canon plotline. I will have no idea what the hell I'm doing soon.


	34. Chapter 34

In the early hours of morning, sun light shone through the windows of WangJi’s courtyard filling the room with dim light. The light gradually brightened as the sun rose beyond the horizon; on its journey, it filtered in and landed on a pair of closed eyes.

WangJi’s brows furrowed as his consciousness registered the light. His long period of unconsciousness had driven him to a degree of confusion that disorientated him. It took a moment to adjust to the brightness of his surrounding and recognise his room. However, he couldn’t figure out how long he had been unconscious for. The throbbing in his head brought questions and confusion regarding the searing pain across his sternum. He looked down at his robes to observe his potential injuries to find an intruder on his bed.

WangJi blinked once, then twice, to make sure he was indeed conscious. A little bundle was splayed out comfortably across his pristine covers in a manner that only a member of the unruly Wen clean could accomplish. He recognised SiZhui resting on top of the bed covers; however, couldn’t fathom a reason that his little disciple would be sleeping on his bed in the morning. The boy rested on the covers and didn’t have anything to keep him warm, so while he was gently snoring, he blew a snot bubble from his nose. To help SiZhui’s cause, he was also drooling and had apparently been drooling for a while given the trail of saliva he’d left in a streak across WangJi’s bed.

In all his impeccably clean glory, WangJi stiffened up instantly. His brow twitched with irritation as he watched SiZhui’s snot bubble pop and form again splatting the already fluid-laden sheets with even more fluid. In spite of his stone-faced exterior, WangJi made no move to wake the child up; he moved as far away from the wet side of his bed as possible and nursed his throbbing head as he attempted to piece together his last memory of what had occurred. He recalled having a fever and have muddled thoughts that day. He remembered his feverish thoughts to be of intense longing for Wei Ying. Finally, he remembered the bittersweet TianziXiao that he had drunken that day. However, his memories stopped after the first cup. The mystery of the situation made him extremely curious about what he had done especially to have aching pain on his chest and back. However, he had a more pressing issue; while his face remained stoic, the throbbing in his head refused to leave him in peace for so much as a moment. The slow onset of dehydration, alcohol consumption, fatigue and recovering injuries left him almost shivering in pain all over, particularly in his head. He closed his eyes as he attempted to meditate the pain away by rotating the spiritual energy from one meridian to the next hoping to clear the fatigue that had gathered in his body.

SiZhui awoke sniffling left and right as the morning chill ebbed into his creaking bones. His snot bubble that had gracefully formed above his face popped dropping snot all over his face. SiZhui grimaced as he wiped away the snot from his face and effectively smearing is all over his face and sleeves. He shook his head to wake himself up and shivered with the morning wind. His eyes were still semi-shut as he attempted to reorientate himself to his surroundings. He didn’t remember his room being so cold. Sniffling once, SiZhui reached his chubby, little hand over the bed to reach for something more effective than his sleeve to wipe his nose. Ordinarily, in his room, he would have a piece of cloth close during the night in case he needed to blow his now; however, WangJi’s room was not set up as such. After all, only those from the GusuLan sect could sleep so elegantly with so few blankets even in the midst of such cold weather. SiZhui over reached for his non-existent handkerchief and, ever so gracefully, fell off the bed with a loud ‘thud!’

The impact sent SiZhui’s sanity away from a moment as he adjusted to his bearings. His eyes now wide open and full of sleep residue could recognise the room he was in. His body couldn’t stop shaking as he turned around with a trembling smiling to see his master sitting on the bed as far away as he had been laying as possible. He looked down at the sheets and noticed a significant wet patch staining the impeccable cleanliness of the sheets.

There were two options that SiZhui could make: he could back away to the door while is master’s mind was focused elsewhere or he could make his master even more irritated by drawing him out of his meditation and apologising.

Apparently SiZhui had inherited a thing or two from Wei Ying. He tiptoed towards the door. Each creak of the floor was suddenly the difference between life and death as he sorely regretted not memorising which floor plank was always creaking beneath him when he went in and out. If he had known it would be this useful, not even the hounds of hell chasing him with MengPo’s soup could stop him from learning!

Sweat bullet formed on SiZhui’s head as his little feet tested each step he was about to take. The journey to the front door which generally took less than ten second, was suddenly taking ten minutes. A wave of relief swept of SiZhui as he reached two steps from the door. He lifted his foot and placed it gently on the last step before the exit. All was fine until he shifted his weight. Even though SiZhui’s body weight was barely half of an adults weight, the final floor board seemed to have a vengeance towards him. A fear-inducing creak clearly and vibrantly throughout the room.

Shaking, SiZhui crouched and turned his head to look towards WangJi. Seeing WangJi’s eyes still closed, SiZhui began taking the step outside of the room to run away quickly; however, before he could move another step, a voice called him.

“Hm?”

SiZhui stood to attention as he shakily turned around with a smile, “I was just going to get some breakfast for you.”

“Room.”

“I’ll clean it up right away,” SiZhui stammered.

In his nervous demeanour, the sweat of SiZhui’s forehead gathered. A drop fell onto the floor.

WangJi and SiZhui stared at the ground where the sweat drop had fallen then looked back at each other.

“Right away. I’ll clean it up right away,” SiZhui laughed nervously.

“You’re still drooling,” WangJi commented.


	35. Chapter 35

“Lan Zhan!” XiChen burst through the room in as rule abiding a way as he could while maintaining his image as sect head.

WangJi blinked. No expression was clear on his face, but his confusion was almost tangible in the stilled air.

XiChen sat down to catch his breath as he inquisitively watched his brother’s face with an unnerving amount of concentration. WangJi didn’t avoid the gaze and made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with his brother.

Seeing clear black eyes that revealed no intent for harm or hurt, XiChen finally settled down.

“How much do you remember?” XiChen asked.

“Drinking one cup,” WangJi responded.

Naturally, WangJi didn’t need to elaborate on exactly what he had drunken; it was plenty apparent that he had drunken alcohol and suffered it’s multiple side effects.

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Mn,” WangJi nodded as he pointed towards his neck and chest.

XiChen sighed tiredly, “Please let this be the last time you drink alcohol.”

WangJi chose not to respond.

Sitting in the corner, SiZhui listened curiously as he scrubbed away at the sheets.

It was only when SiZhui could no longer find ways to delay leaving to eavesdrop and left that XiChen finally discussed what he wanted to discuss.

“Lan Zhan, you didn’t just drink some wine, you drank half the bottle and couldn’t tolerate it. Your face flushed red and you walked drunkenly out your front door and tripped. By the time I found you, you were in the storage room with a bloody nose looking for ChengQing. ChengQing wasn’t in the sect, so you pulled Wen Clan branding iron and used it on yourself,” XiChen elaborated.

Pointing towards where the wound was located on his chest, XiChen said, “Here. There isn’t a method to remove a scar caused by branding irons yet. Some of the elders are currently searching for a method, but it hasn’t been successful yet. You used more spiritual force than normal when branding yourself, so yours will be particularly hard to remove later.”

WangJi slowly stood up and walked towards the mirror; he pulled down his collar to reveal an intricate scar. The intricate sun motif of the Wen Clan branded into the skin and was still a deep red colour. The intense heat had caused the skin to permanently deform as form ridges along where the motif lay.

Slowly drawing his fingers across, WangJi looked at the injury with no expression readable on his face. XiChen observed his brother’s reaction closely.

A period of silence veiled the room for a few minutes as WangJi looked at the wound. 

XiChen could feel cold sweat dripping down his back as he waited in anticipation, “Don’t worry, Lan Zhan. We’ll find a way to remove it. The elders have already been searching for someway to remove it.”

As WangJi stared at the reflection of himself, a sense of warmth seemed to fill his body.

“There is no need to remove it,” WangJi stated.

“I know. We’re working on it alr- wait…Don’t remove it?”

WangJi nodded.

“Lan Zhan, do you understand what it means to have a brand of another sect on your chest?”

Again, WangJi nodded.

“Listen to me. That brand means that you, Han-GuangJun, are not part of the Lan Clan, but rather a representative of the QiShanWen Sect as a slave!” XiChen affirmed.

“Mmn,” WangJi nodded.

XiChen was exasperated as he struggled to keep his calm, “Then why? Why insist on keeping that scar. The weight of that brand will come back to haunt you one day. The QiShanWen Sect tried to murder all other sect. Do you think you’ll be left in peace as long as you have the a brand of their sect on your chest!”

“It’s the same,” WangJi stated.

“What is it the same as?” XiChen asked with a confused expression.

“Wei Ying.”

Visible confusion crossed XiChen’s face as he tried to piece together the little information that WangJi had given him. He tried to gather it to form a structured, logical train of thought; however, no matter how much he twisted his mind, he couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“The YiLing Patriarch had a brand of the Wen Clan too?”

WangJi nodded. It wasn’t the exact same, the scar tissue looked different and the healing process had been vastly different; Wei Ying hadn’t received any aid for days because they had been stuck in the cave together, whereas he had evidently received treatment as soon as the incident occurred. The scarring was different and the wound wasn’t pretty, but somehow, WangJi felt a satisfaction that he hadn’t felt since before Wei Ying had died. The brand settled above his heart where he felt Wei Ying would always reside in the form of the sun. Wei Ying had been his sun. It was a brand that many would consider cursed, but to WangJi, it was a memory, a legacy, a blessing.

The feel of the coarse, burnt skin brought a sense of satisfaction to WangJi that XiChen hadn’t seen in the months that WangJi had awoken from his coma. Knowing that there was no other way to persuade his stubborn brother to rethink his decision, he caved. He could only sigh as he accepted that, despite his unchanging exterior, his brother was rather spoilt. 

“Alright. I’ll ask the elders to stop searching for a method to remove the scar, but remember this, no one should ever know that you have a brand of the QiShanWen clan. Remember, if they find out that we have a fugitive from the Wen Clan and you, yourself have the brand of a Wen Clan member, our sect may fall to ruin from the other four sects. Be very careful, Lan Zhan.”

XiChen wished his brother well and rubbed the stress lines from his brows as he stepped out of WangJi’s courtyard. No doubt, there would be many things that he needed to clean up after this incident. He had to resolve the rumours of the sect master’s brother breaking the sect rules, repair the storage room, reorganise the artifacts and still attend a meeting with the other sect heads regarding the organisation of the four remaining sects.

Within the room, WangJi watched his brother’s departing figure.

_‘Thank you, XiChen.’_

~Mourning Arc Finale~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally reached the end of the mourning arc. I hope you've enjoyed reading up to this point. After this point, I'm not longer spoonfed plot and canonic milestones. From this point forwards, the story may vary from what you expect, or I may overlook details. My advanced apologies. It has been a few months since I read the novel, and while I have got notes and some events that need to add in, what happens will be completely my own interpretation of these following 13 years. 
> 
> Furthermore, I will require some time to regroup and replan for the following chapters and will be taking a few weeks break in order to make sure I'm matching the original plot time line.
> 
> Thank you for understanding. I will be back soon in the Recovery Arc (hopefully).
> 
> Yulius


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